My heart felt like it had suddenly swollen in my chest, making it feel tight and heavy.
Not sure I could find the right thing to say, I took the final step between us, resting my cheek against his chest. “I want more,” I told him, my voice small.
“You sure?” he asked, feeling me nod. “Then how about you say it like you’re sure?”
I laughed a little bit at that, shaking my head. “You’re a jerk.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to that,” he agreed, arm going around the center of my back, holding me tighter. “If we are gonna do this.”
Do this.
That overly simplified it, didn’t it?
Do it.
As though getting into a relationship was the easiest thing, the most normal thing.
Maybe for some people, it was.
For me, and I suspected for him, that wasn’t really the case.
“Everything has to change again,” I told his chest.
“Everything can be however you want now. You want to go back to the city, get back to your old life, do that. You want to stay here and start over, do that.”
“I like Auddie,” I admitted. “But I don’t think I want to stay here.”
“Good. ‘Cause it would have been a pain in the ass to fly out here every time I wanted to see you.”
“You’d fly out to see me?” I asked, hearing it in my voice for maybe the first time ever. Hope.
To that, he made some rumbling sound in his chest I took for agreement. “Known a lot of women,” he started, giving me a squeeze. “Not a single fucking one ever got in like you have. I figure it means something that you were able to. I’m gonna hold onto that. Figuratively,” he said as his hands suddenly moved downward. Then sank into my butt hard. “And literally,” he added, making my sex clench at the promise in his voice.
“Well, I can get behind that.”
That made a rolling sound move through him as his hands grabbed my butt harder, lifting me up by it, then turning to drop me down on the kitchen counter, lips claiming mine in an instant. Hard. Hungry. Completely uncontrolled.
His pelvis pressed between my legs, his hard cock sliding up my cleft through his jeans, making a ragged moan move through me.
His hands went up my thighs, sides, then inward, snagging the hem of my shirt, ripping it up roughly, making my hands shoot up to free the material. There wasn’t even a pause before his fingers grabbed the cup of my bra, yanking it down, exposing the small mound to his hungry mouth, his lips closing around the nipple, sucking it until I arched backward, pressing further into his mouth, demanding more.
Which he happily gave me.
Until my bra was discarded to the floor along with his shirt. Until his hand landed in the center of my chest, pressing me backward until my back met the cold of the counter, making my nipples tweak harder, goosebumps to move across my skin. His hands went down my torso, his finger tracing the healed scar on the side before he snagged the waists of my pants and panties, pulling downward, yanking hard to make them move over my ass then down my legs until I was completely bare before him.
His hands spread my thighs, pushing my knees down against the counter, gaze pinned between my legs, making the urge to close my thighs overtake me. But he wouldn’t allow it, holding onto my knee, keeping me spread before him.
A low growl moved through him as one of his hands moved up from my knee, massaging over my thigh before it traced between my slick lips, rolling my clit, making me cry out, the sound echoing off the walls in my apartment, making anyone around aware exactly what was happening behind my door.
“Couldn’t get the thought of your pussy out of my mind,” he told me as his body lowered down, as his fingers moved down my cleft to press against my opening. “Fucking sweet,” he told me a second before his tongue traced upward to seek my clit, circling it as his fingers thrust inside me. “And tight,” he added, thrusting lazily as his tongue worked my clit, as the desire became something other level, something indescribable. “Been thinking of me too,” he half-asked, half-told me.
“Yes,” I whimpered, hand going to the back of his neck, trying to hold him to me, demanding an end to the coiled torment in my lower belly. “Thinking about what?” he asked, releasing my clit as his fingers kept thrusting inside of me, a bit faster, more demanding. “About me licking your pussy?”
“Yes,” I moaned, hand grabbing the wrist of the hand planted on my knee still, fingers digging in, feeling like I had to hold on.
“Is that it?”
“N… no.”
“Did you think about my cock here?” he asked, fingers suddenly curling inside me to tap against my G-spot. All that came out of me was some ragged, almost pained sound. “That’s not an answer, duchess,” he informed me, smirk wicked, but his eyes were as needy as my own.