Pause (Larsen Bros) - Page 46

“Yeah.”

So much bare skin it’s going to my head. If only I could will my tee and bra out of existence so that there’s nothing between us. That would be sublime. He’s so big and brawny and beautiful with his muscles and tattoos. With the way he’s so totally at ease with himself. Meanwhile, I’m not sure where to put my hands first. Where I’m allowed to touch and what I’m allowed do now that the rules between us are changing so fast.

His head rests against mine and we just cling to each other for a moment. A long moment. I’d crawl under his skin and make myself at home if I could. After all of the uncertainty, it’s good to be this close. Like we’re melting into each other. Like nothing could ever come between us. This hug is everything. Right up until I feel his fingers creeping under the hem of my tee and up my back. The rough skin on the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth across my skin gives me goose bumps. All of the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The man is electric.

“I thought I was meant to be making the move,” I mumble.

“You took too long.” He rubs his nose against my hair, even pausing to sniff. Whatever turns him on. “Figured you needed some encouragement.”

Which is about when his fingers reverse direction and dip below the back of my jeans to trace the waistband of my panties. Plain sensible white cotton, but you can’t have everything. What’s really nice, or indeed, exciting, about all of this is the feel of him starting to harden against me. Someone other than my ex wants to sleep with me and the accident hasn’t stolen my feminine allure. My elusive girl power. Amazing. Two stupid concerns crossed off the list. This is all doing my confidence untold amounts of good.

“You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable or anything?” he asks.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Your toe’s okay?” he continues. “Your muscles aren’t cramping or sore?”

“All good.”

With one hand wrapped around the back of his neck in case he tries to escape or something, I nuzzle my way up to his ear. What a thing of pleasure he is. There’s a musky male scent to him that’s high inducing. Since he’s made no attempts to throw me off, I let go of my hold on his neck and experiment with running my fingers over his stubble. Then there’s the thickness of his shoulders and the swell of his pecs, his sensitive flat nipples all just waiting to be caressed. I could pet him for hours. And I just might.

Meanwhile, his fingers are gripping the tops of my ass cheeks, encouraging me to press against him. Encouraging me to grind myself against him. I haven’t been this close to anyone in a long time and it’s a dizzying good thing.

He turns his head, his lips pressing against my forehead. Such a sweet man. “I usually have more control than this.”

“It’s fine.”

I thread my hands through his hair, testing the silken strands. He’s a dichotomy of sensations. Soft hair and hard muscles. Rough stubble and smooth lips. I rub my thumb over his bottom lip and he fakes taking a bite. This time at least. The heat in his gaze makes me think he enjoys this sort of thing. Playing a little rough. Sounds like fun to me.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m good.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Good and sure along with a little annoyed now, actually. “Am I doing anything to make you think otherwise?”

“No, I just—”

“I’m not fragile, Leif. You’re not going to accidentally break me or something.”

He just blinks. “Well, baby, to be honest . . . I’d bend you over the nearest table and fuck you hard except I was trying to take shit slow and be romantic since this is our first time and all. Maybe you just want a make-out session and that’s fine with me. I’m happy just to have my hands on you, so it’s your call.”

“That so?”

“Yep.”

Which is about when I grab his gorgeous face and kiss him like my life depends on it. Because in that moment it sort of does. I am not a mess. I am neither a patient nor a problem. Hell no. I am the woman who is going to shake him up some. Strong arms band around me, holding on tight, while our mouths fight for dominance. My tongue tangles with his and I take his breath into me. He tastes of toothpaste and hot man. And Leif doesn’t hold back in the least.

Any curiosity regarding the size of his dick is also fast being sated. There’s no doubting the heat and hardness pressing into me. Sleeping pants don’t leave much to the imagination, bless them.

Hair mussed by my hands and lips swollen by our kiss, he damn near takes my breath away with his beauty. I want to write him bad poetry and hang his picture on my bedroom wall. Do all of the things with him and for him. It’s scary to feel so much so fast.

Tags: Kylie Scott Romance
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