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We traded air, short puffs out of her nose, which I sucked in at the same time, unwilling to break apart from this kiss.
Charlotte’s head fell back when I sucked hot kisses down the line of her jaw, over the arch of her throat.
“Burke,” she whispered, curving her body closer to mine.
I hummed into her skin, pulling at the neckline of her shirt so I could nip at her collarbone. I took a deep breath when she slid her hands over my arms. It was so simple, but that touch was enough to send chills down the line of my back. I felt like a cat, arching into her touch. This felt different, though, from all the times we’d touched. The simple addition of a not-so-simple kiss made the feel of her hands on my skin something decadent and wild and indulgent.
Not just because of the kiss.
Because it was her.
The wrong person for me in so many ways but absolutely the only fucking woman I’d ever wanted like this.
Every moment of this felt fleeting, like if I stopped to breathe for too long, I’d lose an opportunity. An hourglass tipped over in my mind, pushing a sense of urgency into whatever we were starting. And maybe it had always been there, a diverging path to where she’d end up, and where I would too.
I slanted my mouth over hers again, diving deep back into the kiss, my hands gripping the sides of her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks as she gave and gave, then ripped a groan from my chest when she nipped at my bottom lip.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “How did I know you’d bite?”
She laughed into my mouth, and I swallowed the sound with a slow, long lick against her tongue. I rolled my hips as I did, and she whimpered again.
I wanted inside her.
I wanted to know how soft and wet and hot she was.
If she’d scream when I had her underneath me, her thighs clamped on either side of my waist.
In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to tear Charlotte apart, feel her shake and shudder because of what we did to each other.
More than I ever had before, I understood why she’d erected this barrier. Why she held back from crossing that line.
If a kiss had the power to devastate me this way, rip through defenses and obliterate my desire to hold back from her, then how much more powerless would I feel if I knew how she felt from the inside? If I was so deep in her that we couldn’t tell her pleasure from my own when they tied together.
My hands curled, and I tried to curb the impulse to tear at her clothes, to dive headfirst into the parts of her that I wanted to taste the most. But I wasn’t quite sure that was the way we’d do this either.
I gentled the kiss, and she softened inch by inch. I slid my palms down her arms, then up the firm skin of her thigh, pushing underneath the hem of her tattered denim shorts.
Charlotte brushed her nose along mine, biting carefully at my bottom lip, her eyes open and her gaze locked on mine.
We were testing again, searching for any reaction that might threaten whatever it was we were building.
Her lips curled into a tiny, smug smile when my hands tightened on the bottom curve of her ass.
“You feel good,” I told her.
She hummed. “I think we’d both feel better if our clothes were off.”
I exhaled a laugh. I set my forehead on hers. “Without a fucking doubt,” I whispered against her lips.
Her hands started exploring the expanse of my chest under my shirt, dancing lightly down the front of my stomach as she ducked her head to nibble on my jaw. I curled my hands into fists and set them on the counter on either side of her hips.
“Woman,” I growled, “I’m trying to be honorable.”
She licked at the base of my throat. “Are you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I can think of other very fun ways we can spend our evening.” She curled her fingers into the waistband of my pants, and I hissed when she brushed against me. “Want me to list them for you?”
