I don’t have a shirt on, so every breath she takes, I feel it on my bare skin like a soft caress. I’m surprised I don’t have blood dripping down my chin from the many times I’ve bitten my tongue to hold back a groan.
When her hand starts playing with my happy trail, I can’t fucking take it anymore. I grab her hand, slip an arm around her waist, and flip us around until she’s on her back and I’m hovering over her. Her hands press against my pecs.
“You can’t do that,” I grind out huskily, staring down at her with heated eyes.
She stares back at me, her lips parted in surprise at my sudden movement.
“D-do what?” she squeaks, then promptly tortures me more by licking her lips.
“Rub my stomach like that.” I lower my head until I’m only inches away. “I have control, baby, but only so much.”
“Oh.” She frowns and mutters, “Sorry.”
I run my hand up her arm, across her shoulder, and stop when I’m palming her neck. I rub my thumb over the hard beat of her pulse.
“Don’t apologize.” Leaning down, I nip at her bottom lip. “It’s just been difficult having you here the last couple of weeks.”
The crease between her eyes deepens. “Elijah and I can go back to Susan’s,” she ridiculously suggests.
“No.” She arches a brow at my blunt response. “You and Elijah will stay right here.”
“I don’t want to make things harder on you.”
I press myself against her hip and quirk my lips. “It’s already hard enough, so you may as well stay.”
She rolls her eyes and releases a little laugh. I push back a piece of hair behind her ear and lean down for a kiss. Keeping it short, I pull back.
“I’ll get over it. Just watch where your hand goes, okay?”
She nods, then tilts her head to the side, as if she’s thinking about something. A moment later, her hands leave my chest and travel over my shoulders, until her fingers lightly brush through my hair at the back of my neck. Shivers race down my spine, and I adjust on the couch, pressing my aching cock harder against her.
I’m momentarily stunned when her hands grip my hair and she yanks me down. Our mouths clash together in a heated kiss. Groaning, I slip my tongue past her lips and taste the strawberries she ate earlier.
Sliding my hand down her side and over her waist, I grip the back of her thigh and bring her leg over my hip. She wiggles under me, and I realize what she wants. Lifting up, she moves her other leg until I’m able to settle between her spread thighs. My eyes damn near roll to the back of my head when I fit myself snuggly against her warm center.
“Ah, fuck, you feel so damn good,” I breathe against her throat and hike her leg up higher. My shaft pulses and strains against the soft cotton of my pants.
I kiss along the column of her neck, across her shoulders, and nip at her collar bone. Her nails bite into my shoulders and she tips her head back with a moan. I grind my hips into hers, aching to rip away both of our clothes and sink inside her tight heat.
Slipping my hand under the hem of her shirt, I lift my head and peer down at her as I slowly lift the material. She bites her lip as her hooded eyes watch me.
“Tell me when to stop,” I murmur and receive a nod.
When her shirt is pushed just below her breasts, I dip my head and press my lips against her stomach. I tuck my hands under her waist and lift her up. Her back bows and she lets out a little whimper. Feeling the small indents of her stretch marks, I flick out my tongue against the silvery lines. I’ve always found pregnancy stretch marks incredibly sexy on a woman.
“Oh, God, Trouble,” she moans, digging her fingers in my hair and lifting her hips against me. She’s so damn wet I can feel it on my upper stomach.
I lick up her stomach until I reach the underside of her breasts. They’re bigger than they were when she was pregnant because she breastfeeds. I want to squeeze them and bury my face against them and have them in my mouth, but some women are sensitive with their tits when they breastfeed.
Watching her reaction, I lean over her on one fist and lift her shirt over the full mounds covered in her white bra. Her eyes snap open and she looks down at me, uncertainty flashing in her eyes.
“Trouble, I, umm….”
“What, Remi?” I prompt when she stops. “Tell me.”
Embarrassment heats her cheeks. “I leak.” Her nose wrinkles cutely.
“Does that bother you?”