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He kisses me.
My hands rise to his shoulders to steady myself.
The feverish rush of his kiss is smoking. Our tongues slide against one another with pressure and force. I’m being pulled into his body, exactly where I want to be.
He moves south, placing a soft kiss on the skin of my jaw, sending a wave of pleasure down my body. I grab his head and rake my fingers through his thick hair as his mouth lowers to my neck, his teeth placing little nips that race tiny jolts to my core.
My fists grip the counter as he lifts my sweatshirt. With no bra on, my breasts spring free, the cool morning air making my nipples pucker and tighten.
A gravelly groan exits his lips as his eyes widen at the sight, like a man starving for a taste.
And taste he does.
Heated lips are wrapped around my breast, flicking at the erect bud and sucking on the skin, leaving hickeys I’ll be keeping as souvenirs. I want to grab him, touch him, undress him … but this is all for him to seize. My head rolls back as he does things to me, and I can now confirm Will is a breast man who knows what he’s doing—and thank the good Lord for that.
He slides my bottoms down and roams over the curve of my butt.
“I love that you sleep commando.” His gravelly tone is muted as he falls to his knees.
His hands grip my waist as he makes a meal of kissing every inch of my skin. My legs are bare, spread and vibrating in anticipation, and he’s still too far north, whispering sweet nothings against my flesh.
“Your body is a marvel. It’s a shame it’s ever covered. Every inch is a masterpiece, each curve like fine silk. I could touch you all day and never get enough.”
The coaxing pressure of his thick tongue glides down my lower belly, and I lift my hips, desperate for something more.
“I thought my dad said not to do anything tawdry in the house.”
He rises and curls his fingers around my neck, forcing me to look up at him as he takes my lower lip and bites it, slowly pulling back and then returning for a heat-blistering kiss.
“Baby, nothing about what we’re about to do is cheap.”
Will looks over the countertop, where I slung my face mask. “Turn around,” he demands.
I do so, and I’m surprised when he takes my hands and binds them with the mask. They’re no steel cuffs, but his handiwork is rather impressive.
Completely naked and bound in my kitchen, I tense with need.
“What if my father comes home early?”
“I deadbolted all the doors. We’ll have a minute before he unlocks everything.”
“Assumed we’d have kitchen sex?”
“An officer is always aware of his surroundings and anticipates every outcome.”
Will’s hands are on my breasts and hips as he kisses down my back. I melt into affection and quicken with need, surrendering to his all-consuming touch as he turns me around, takes a knee, lifts my leg over his shoulder, and feasts on me in the kitchen.
“William,” I cry out, calling him by his Christian name as I praise at the altar of William Bronson.
“So fucking sweet,” he growls against my core. “And you’re all mine.”
Eyes rolling back. Skin prickling with heat. Hands desperate to move and touch and play … they’re bound, and I lose myself in what he’s doing to my core. His fingers run along the seam of my pussy, and my knees buckle as I moan loudly and drop my head forward, addicted to the sight of this beautiful man.
On his knees.
Worshipping me.
Right here, out in the open of my kitchen.
