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“You okay?” he whispers, his chest rumbling gently against my flushed face.
If I could, I’d laugh, but there’s barely any oxygen left in my lungs, so I just let out a soft exhale.
“Jell-O.”
“Hmm? You want Jell-O?”
“No. Me Jell-O. You sex god.”
He laughs softly, pulling my hand to his lips. Kisses feather my fingertips, and then he lays my hand back on his chest next to my face.
We lie there for a minute, catching our breaths, his finger running up and down my damp back, drawing goose bumps wherever he touches me.
I don’t know how to tell him that no one has ever touched me that way before.
But maybe I don’t need to, because he pulls me even more tightly against him and whispers, “What are you thinking about?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I always want to know.”
I giggle, lightheaded. “I guess I want to know… if you can become addicted to something after only doing it once.”
He laughs again, and it’s just the cherry on top of everything else he’s made me feel in the last few minutes. “If you were in my head right now, you wouldn’t be asking that question, moonshine.”
And he says it with so much intensity, a shiver travels throughout my whole body.
“Cold?” he says, instantly sitting up and ripping his shirt open, then sliding it off his body. He lies back down, pulling me against him and draping the shirt over us.
His scent envelops me, and I take three deep breaths. Even on the second day of wearing this shirt, he smells so good.
“Did you go home last night?” I ask.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I told you I’d be waiting for you when you’re ready. And you’d know this is where to find me.”
“Oh.” Resting my chin on his sternum, my head tilts up to look at him.
He stares back, the softest smile on his lips.
He’s so beautiful it makes it hard to breathe, to think.
“You’re beautiful,” I say without thinking.
His thumb traces my lower lip. “You have no idea what beautiful is,” he whispers back as he sits up.
After gently laying me back down on the desk, he slides to his feet.
Slowly undressing, he starts with his undershirt, pulling it over his head as he kicks off his shoes and then his socks.
He stands there in his pants for a moment, his eyes raking over my naked body, taking in every single inch, every red mark he dug into my skin, every glisten of wetness on my thighs.
The promise in that moment is the most erotically charged of my life, knowing what’s coming next.
But then his hands reach for his belt, and I have to bite back a little gasp.
