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I’ve spent years wanting to muss her up. Satisfaction pounds through me that I’ve finally done it. Instead of rushing forward and taking her the way every instinct demands I do, I force myself to lean against the door and simply drink in the sight of her. I want to tuck this moment away in the back of my brain for eternity.
“You want this, right?” I ask, needing her to reconfirm that taking this further is a mutual decision.
The delicate column of her throat works as she swallows before nodding. “Yes, I do.”
Relief floods through me. What would I have done if she’d said no? That she wasn’t into it. That she didn’t want me.
I probably would have fallen to my knees and begged her to change her mind.
Thank fuck that’s not necessary.
My muscles tense as I push away from the door and swallow up the distance between us until I’m no more than a foot away. A fine tremble racks her body as I reach out to caress the side of her face. She’s so fine boned.
Delicate.
How many times throughout the years have I longed to do exactly that but denied myself the urge because I didn’t have any right to touch her?
Too many to count.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Her eyes soften as she presses the side of her face into my calloused palm.
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.” My voice deepens, unable to believe that she doesn’t realize how gorgeous she is. “Just looking at you steals my breath away.”
I step closer until my lips can hover over hers. Unlike in the alleyway or elevator, this kiss is gentle. I want her to understand that it’s not passion fueling the compliments but the truth.
As soon as my mouth slides over hers, she opens. Our tongues tangle, twining together as my hands gather up the fabric of her dress, dragging it up her torso and chest. We splinter apart long enough for me to pull it over her head and drop it to the floor.
My gaze slides greedily down the length of her.
She’s wearing another matching set.
This one is pink with little white polka dots.
I don’t know how it’s possible for my cock to grow any harder, but that’s exactly what happens. This girl has no damn idea how sexy she is. All I want to do is worship her with my lips, tongue, and hands until she understands just how much she affects me.
How much she’s always affected me.
“Gorgeous,” I growl before my lips slant over hers again.
Instead of winding her arms around my neck and pressing closer, she pops the button of my khakis for a second time this evening before dragging down the zipper and untucking the dress shirt.
“I want your clothes off,” she whispers against my mouth.
My fingers make quick work of the buttons before yanking off the pressed cotton and then the white T-shirt beneath. I shove the pants down my legs before stepping out of them until there’s nothing more to cover me than my boxers. My hand snakes out, nabbing her fingers before towing her to me. I want to feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine.
Once she’s in my arms, I force her back until the delicate flesh behind her knees hits the mattress and she falls onto it with a soft bounce. As she scoots up and settles in the middle of the bed, I can’t help but stare at the pretty picture she makes.
I wasn’t lying when I said she’s gorgeous.
She absolutely is.
More than I imagined.
Even though this isn’t the first time I’m seeing Juliette without her clothing, I’m just as bowled over by the sight. The suppleness of her thighs, the gentle flare of her hips, the softness of her belly, the roundness of her breasts cupped by the silky material, and the slope of her shoulders.
