Kiss Me Like This (The Morrisons 1)

Still, for all that he was trying to hold back so that he didn't scare her, when he said, "You're amazing," the two simple words came out so strong, so raw, that he knew he wasn't hiding much at all from her.

When her lips found his at the same time his took hers, their kiss was more passionate, more intense, than he'd ever known a kiss could be. Her mouth on his tangled his senses, made him ache way down deep in the center of his chest.

"Please," she whispered against his lips. "Please don't stop with just a kiss today. Not when I need you so badly. Not when I need to know that we're still real and that nothing has changed because both of us are sorry and both of us are forgiven, too."

Needing all the same things, he captured her mouth in another searing, mind-bending kiss. Gripping the bottom of her sweatshirt and her T-shirt and her bra all together in his fists, he yanked at them so roughly that he nearly tore them as he pulled them over her head. And then...sweet Lord...she was standing there in front of him, bared from the waist up and so shockingly beautiful that the final threads of sanity he'd been trying to hold on to were lost in a rush of desire so strong it actually did take him to his knees.

"Serena." He whispered her name in the exact moment he took her nipple onto his tongue. His hands cupped, caressed, teased her breasts even as his mouth took, feasted, craved.

"Please," she begged again, breathless now as she threaded her fingers into his hair and arched into his mouth. "Oh God, please don't stop."

No. He wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. Didn't ever want to stop kissing her. Didn't ever want to stop tasting her. All he wanted to do was claim her as his. Only his. Not only today. Not just this morning. But over and over and over again.

Forever.

He moved his attention to her other breast and licked over her with deliberate slowness, knowing that if he didn't force himself to take his time, he'd later regret not savoring every single second. Not just of getting to be with her, but getting to be her first.

He knew by now that she'd never been with another guy...because she wouldn't have trusted anyone the way she trusted him.

Earn it. He swore again to himself that he would earn her trust. Even more so in the aftermath of having lashed out and hurt her just minutes earlier. She'd just forgiven him again, and he'd make damn sure she wouldn't regret opening herself up to him. That she wouldn't regret being there for him. And that she wouldn't regret staying.

He'd always made sure to stop them before things went too far. But today, the boundaries had shifted. Far enough that he wouldn't stop at the edge today, but would take her all the way over it. No matter what else happened, he'd make sure she knew pleasure. The deep, amazing pleasure that she deserved...and that he was so damned lucky she trusted him to give her.

Finally rising from his knees, he kissed her long and deep before pulling back to look into her eyes. Just as he had every time they were together, he needed to make absolutely sure that he wasn't moving too fast.

"Is it too much?"

"No. God, no. It isn't nearly enough."

He slowly moved his hands to the top of her jeans. "What about this?" He slid the button out of its hole. "Will this be too much? Because I'll stop if you need me to."

On a little frustrated growl that shot straight to his groin, she slid her hands from his hair to cover his over her zipper, and yanked it down. The next thing he knew, she was shimmying out of her jeans...and was standing before him in nothing but little white lace panties, at once both totally innocent and the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

"I can't think when I'm looking at you," he confessed in a half-whisper, half-groan. "I need a second to get a grip."

But instead of giving him a chance to pull himself together, she put her thumbs in the slim sides of the lace that barely covered her. "I've wanted this with you since that first night. Since our first kiss."

"I have, too," he told her, but he still made himself cover her hands with his so that she had to hold the lace up against her hips rather than pull it down. Because once she was naked...

When she realized he wouldn't let her strip off her underwear, she looked up at him with equal parts frustration and desperate lust. "Then why haven't you? You've been so gentle, given me so much space and room it's nearly driven me completely crazy. Especially knowing that you've done this with so many other girls, but not with me."

"You're not like the others, Serena. You'll never be like the others." She made him want to be a better man. "You're special. You need to know how special you are."

"You've always made me feel special." She shifted her hands beneath his so that they were palm to palm. "Always. Even that first night, the way you held me, the way you kissed me, the way you looked at me...I'd never felt like that with anyone else."

This time when they kissed, there was more than just need. More than just desire. More than just desperate lust. And when he touched her, when he made her come, he knew it wouldn't just be about giving her physical pleasure...it would be about making her happy in ways and places that even the best sex in the world couldn't reach.

Still kissing her, he slid his arms around her shoulders and beneath her legs, then lifted her. He felt her smile against his mouth, loved the soft sound of her happiness as she laughed in his arms while he carried her over to the bed. But after he laid her down and finally slid the lace from her hips and down her legs, never once did his gaze leave her eyes. Not until she put her hand over his and slid it up her bare thigh to her hip bone.

Knowing that she was finally giving him permission to touch her made him feel like his heart was going to rip out of his chest, it was beating so hard. "Show me," he begged her. "Show me what you want. Show me what you need."

His name was on her lips as she slid both of their hands over her sex. The moment he caressed her slick, hot flesh, her breath left her lungs in a hard rush, her free arm clinging tightly to him as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"So soft." He barely knew what he was saying, just that he had to tell her what touching her like this did to him. "So wet." He had to slide one finger down over her once, then twice, then a third time. "So perfect."

She pulled him even more tightly against herself, trembling from the force of trying to get closer to his hand

as he stroked her. "I've dreamt of you coming for me," he whispered against her ear. "Of how you'd sound. Of how you'd feel." He nipped at her earlobe. "And of how you'd beg me to make you just keep coming, again and again and again."

"Oh God. I feel--" She didn't finish her sentence, but the way she opened her thighs even wider for him, then bucked up into his touch, told him exactly how she was feeling.

Tangling his free hand in her hair, he pulled her head back, gently, but far enough that her eyes met his. "I need to see you," he ground out from lungs that felt like they'd never be able to take in enough oxygen ever again. At least not when Serena's naked body was wrapped around his. "I need to know that everything I do, that everything we do together, feels good."

"Good," she gasped against his lips a beat before he covered hers to pour all of his pent-up, barely controlled need into a kiss. "So, so good."

Her eyes were dilated nearly to black when he finally allowed himself to slip one finger inside.

"Oh!" The sound caught in her throat, and broke into several pieces as he slowly moved over her clitoris, then just as slowly slid back inside. "Oh God."

He built the rhythm as deliberately as he could given his wild, insane need to make her come apart beneath him. Soon, she was rocking against him, growing even wetter, even hotter, so that he almost forgot to be careful, almost forgot not to tear off his own clothes and just take.

But he would never let himself forget that this morning was about Serena. About showing her pleasure. And even more important, proving to her that she could trust him--that she wasn't wrong to have forgiven him for doing and saying all the wrong things.

Between the breathy little sounds she was making and the way her inner muscles were clenching around his finger, he knew she was close. Brushing back the hair from her face, he cupped her cheek gently in one hand as he played over her with the other.

"Come for me, beautiful."

Her eyes had fluttered nearly closed before they suddenly flared open with so much pleasure that it floored him to watch her give herself over so completely, so incredibly, not just to her climax...but, amazingly, to him, too.