It's like I'm in high school again, dry humping on the couch because it's all I can get.
This can't be it.
I need more.
I need everything.
I claw at his back. His skin is slick. I can't get a grip. Fuck, I lost my grip a long, long time ago.
He looks up at me like he's going to give me the world.
And like he's never going to relent.
Heat pools in my sex. Desire races to my fingers and toes.
"Walker." My hips shift. It gets me more of him. Harder. It's not enough. It's closer, but it's not enough, and it's even worse being that much closer. "Please."
"Please what, sweetness?"
"Make me come."
"How?"
I murmur something incomprehensible.
He rocks into me again.
Again.
Again.
"Please," I breathe. "Fuck me." I don't give him a chance to respond. I press my palm into the back of his head to bring his lips to mine.
I kiss him with everything I have to give.
His tongue slides into my mouth. His hips rock against mine.
I pull back to suck in a deep breath, then my lips are on his again.
He claims my mouth with his tongue.
Slowly, he unwraps my legs and sets me on the ground. His fingers trail the waistband of my shorts.
Then he's tracing their hem.
The seam that runs between my legs.
"Fuck." I groan against his mouth. I press my palm against his stomach, reaching for him.
He wraps his hand around my wrist and pins my arm to the wall.
Fuck. I love it when he's in control.
How do I love it this much?
My sex clenches as he pins my other arm to the door.
He's going to fuck me against the front door when there's a couch ten feet away. A bed in the other room. A shower.