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His arms banded around her waist, lifting her against him, sealing their bodies together. His mouth moved over hers hungrily, tasting, teasing, exploring every inch. She raised her palms to his shoulders, digging into the muscle there, holding herself steady for the sensual onslaught.
The kiss transported her, teasing a response from her that she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling from a talented, generous mouth working over hers. But Drake kissed her like he had all night, like there was nothing more important in the world to him than finding out what made her sigh and wriggle, what made her go boneless in his arms.
His hold on her shifted as he backed her against the front door, his hands trailing down her thighs to lift them. Wrap them around his hips.
The position lined up her mound with the bulge in his jeans. Even with her dress and a layer of denim still between them it gave her a sweet spasm.
He captured her cry of pleasure in his mouth before he broke the kiss. She gulped in air, realizing she’d forgotten to breathe for who knew how long.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like this.” His fingers tunneled beneath her skirt to stroke his way up her thighs. At the same time, his hips tilted forward, applying pressure right where she needed it most.
Fireworks danced behind her eyelids.
“Please, more,” she murmured against his mouth, wondering if it was possible to wriggle out of the dress without ever leaving his arms.
She hadn’t been touched this way since...ever. Because the encounters she’d had with other men were nothing—anemic simulations of sex—compared to this. And they hadn’t even taken off their clothes yet.
“After I’ve dreamed about you for years, Fleur, I’m not taking you against a door the first time.” The rough edge to his voice made her nipples tighten almost painfully.
And then, she realized what he’d said.
Would he really take her?
Would it really be the first of more than one time?
“My room is that way.” She pointed toward the back of the house, to her old bedroom near the kitchen. “But I’d like to go on record as being fine with a first time against the door.”
She flexed the muscles of her thighs, squeezing his hips and also rubbing their bodies together in a way that made her toes curl.
Instead of answering her, he cradled her chin in one hand, tilting her face up as if to study her.
“Are you certain?” His voice sounded ragged, raked over a dry throat.
As if the hungry ache was eating him from the inside out.
Or maybe she was projecting since that’s exactly how she felt.
“Positive. I need you.” Her words sounded every bit as desperate as she felt, but they must have satisfied him, because a moment later, he curved his forearm beneath her ass and carried her toward her bedroom.
His long strides rocked their bodies together, and her hold tightened on his neck. She tucked her forehead against his chest, rubbing her cheek over the warmth of his skin through his cotton T-shirt.
But he stopped at the threshold, not taking that last step.
“I don’t have protection. Not even in the truck. I don’t—”
“I have some,” she admitted, splaying her hand along the bristles of his jaw. “I’ve replenished a stash faithfully every year since—”
She’d gotten pregnant. Miscarried his brother’s baby.
Was it her imagination or did a chill descend between them? It felt as if the molecules in the air around her all moved and shifted to accommodate this new information. But just when she thought he would set her on her feet and walk away from her again, he exhaled a long breath.
His grip on her thighs tightened.
“Good. We’re going to need as many as you have.”
Ten
Her wordless hum of pleasure was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
