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Or maybe I was lying to myself because I wanted him, too. It was wrong and probably dangerous, but my rules were crumbling around me with his every breath wafting over my lips. I inhaled raggedly, the need to taste him washing out every other sensation and all rational thought.
I angled my head to kiss him, but his hand came up, stopping me. His fingertips traced the lines of my mouth while his gaze roamed, as if searching my face for an answer he desperately needed.
Why you?
My lips parted, and I touched my tongue to his finger. Then licked, then sucked the tip. His eyes flared, and with his own ragged inhale, Ambri pushed two fingers into my mouth while his other hand gripped my hair at the back of my head. I sucked and licked, sliding my tongue while my hand ventured down his body to find his cock that was pressing urgently against my erection. I palmed it and gave the hard length a squeeze.
He groaned and rested his forehead against mine. I tried to kiss him again—I was fucking dying to kiss him—but he turned away.
“You can do anything to me, Cole,” he said against my lips, his eyes hooded and dark. “But not that.”
“You don’t kiss?”
“Never on the mouth. My one and only hard limit.”
I nodded, swallowing down disappointment and calling on my willpower to keep from crushing his mouth to mine.
“Then I’ll kiss every other part of you instead.”
With those words, our barely restrained need snapped. I stripped off his jacket. He tore off my sweater, leaving me in a long-sleeved shirt. His hands slipped underneath, exploring me until that wasn’t enough. Then he tore the shirt off and stared at me in my white tank. I felt him take in the muscles of my shoulders, my chest, the tightness of my stomach.
“How…how did this happen?”
“Pushups and sit-ups,” I said with a grin. “The poor man’s workout.”
“You’ve been keeping this from me, Cole Matheson,” he said. “I feel betrayed…”
I started to laugh, but it was snuffed out as he attacked me with renewed heat. I responded just as fiercely, kissing and licking Ambri’s neck and then biting the soft flesh there.
Finally, I felt free of the shackles I’d put on myself. Why? Because Scott Laudner had broken my heart? I could hardly remember what he looked like. My world had eclipsed to just Ambri and me in that living room.
Not kissing him was torture. We had close calls and near misses, our lips brushing but never latching on, our teeth and tongues working over jaws and necks and sucking at ear lobes when I ached to taste him and be tasted. To invade and be invaded. I took my frustration out on his clothing, yanking open his vest and sending buttons flying.
“I like this version of you,” Ambri said. “The unthinking animal who takes what he wants.”
Because that’s what he needed me to be, but I was full of thoughts, and they were all of him. My physical need—as ravenous as it was—paled in comparison to how I wanted him in every other way. Ambri was pouring into the hollow spaces in me, driving out the cold emptiness that had lived there for so long.
My mouth sought his again—a natural instinct—but he deftly moved out of my reach.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I can’t help it…”
My words died as desire rolled through me like a slow wave. I’d stripped him bare to the waist, and the sheer perfection of him made me lightheaded. The lines of his chest, the muscles moving under smooth skin… I rested my hand over his heart, felt it pounding under my palm.
“Jesus Christ. You’re fucking beautiful.”
Ambri’s eyes flared with alarm. He gripped my cock over my pants and squeezed, bringing me back to the present. “Don’t be sweet to me, Cole, or this ends now.”
His blue-green stare was hard, but beneath, I saw a glint of fear. The same fear that lived in me—that we were playing with fire.
“Tell me what you want,” I asked hoarsely.
“Rough. Raw. No useless sentiment.”
He said it like a challenge I wasn’t up for, but I could play this game. I could pretend this was impersonal, when in truth I wanted to take him to bed and kiss every inch of him—including his perfect mouth—for the sheer sake of being with him. I wanted to give him a taste of the release he’d given me. To make him feel taken care of.
I’ll do it his way.
I took a small step back. “Make me take it.”
