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Closer. “Should I be grateful you asked then?”
Her nose brushes mine as I speak. “No. You should put your lips on mine and be quiet for a little while.”
Her voice is a soft whisper. “Just a little while?”
She rocks forward, sliding her lips over mine. My hands immediately slide around her hips and over her ass, squeezing. I groan. Her tongue explores my mouth, a little more confident than the last time we kissed, and the way she licks at my lips, the corner of my mouth and then through it, searching, greedy. It makes my dick ache. It makes my dick ache so fucking bad. I can’t even imagine what she would be like beneath me. The way her body would feel bare against my skin.
My hands glide from her ass to her waist and back again, my head dipping to catch another exploring kiss. “I want to feel your skin against mine,” I rasp. “Every inch. Your body… it’s nearly as perfect as your mind.”
She pulls back, her face flushed. “What?” She smiles.
I kiss her jaw, shaking my head in disbelief at what I’ve just said. “See. Poison. That’s what you are.”
“You think my mind is perfect?”
“I said shut up and kiss me.”
She laughs, leaning back to stop my assault. I just dive for her tits instead, her cleavage looking like the perfect place to busy my mouth.
“Wanna know what turned me on the most when we first met, Lance?” she says, a little breathless as I drag my tongue across the swell of her breast.
My eyes snap up.
Desperate prick.
“What?”
“The security guard’s voice… it was Irish, northern, I believe… and the way it made my—”
She squeals as I bite down on her pointed nipple. Her laugh is loud, filling not only the room but parts of me I never knew existed. She takes my head in her hands, pulling it up so she can look at me. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
“I shouldn’t be, should I?”
Her leg slides across my lap fully, straddling me as her dress rises to her hips. Without much thought, and with the way she’s looking at me, my hands disappear beneath it. With her knees tucked at my sides, I smooth my palms from her spread thighs to her hips and then up to her waist. Goose bumps scatter the path beneath my fingers. Our eyes meet.
“That depends if you want to be honest with yourself.”
“Honest about what?” I rasp.
“That you want me.”
The tips of my fingers dig into the skin on her thighs too damn hard. But Scarlet reacts by snaking her body closer, grinding herself over my cock. “Will bruising me make you feel better, Lance? Will it make you feel less jealous when I’m walking around with marks on my body that you put there?”
Her lips nip at mine, teasing.
“You’re pushing it, Lowell.”
“Imagine when we met. Imagine I had bruises here.” She gathers her dress, revealing my hands gripping the tops of her thighs, my thumbs spread wide and dangerously close to her pussy.
She rolls her hips again, and bears down, the lips of her sex parting despite the lace concealing it. I groan as she teases over the length of my dick through my slacks.
“What ifheput them there?”
I grip her harder, keeping her close when she eases back. And I know my hold on her will bruise, but my control is out the fucking window already.
“Carry on, sunshine. The only thing you’ll get yourself is fucked.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”
