chin up the smallest bit, wanting to be closer to his. He didn’t move, just kept looking and brushing my lips, using his thumb to tug slightly on my bottom lip. I thought I might scream out if I didn’t have more of him, so I ran my hand over his strong, solid chest, feeling the muscles beneath, feeling his own breath pick up at my touch.
He took my face in his hands, pulled me to him and pressed his lips to mine. I inhaled his now-familiar scent, that sweetness and spice mingling together, and let his lips set the pace. Just having a part of my body pressed up to his, having his hands on me, was what I needed. Soon, his tongue slipped against mine, and I savored the taste of him. The deep intake of breath he took seemed to mirror the way I felt—any touch was thrilling, but I always wanted a little more, then a little more again.
He pulled me closer to him so that my chest was pressed against his. Our kisses became deeper, more urgent. My fingers got lost in his hair as his hands roamed my back and caressed my waist. He kissed my cheeks, not sweetly but passionately, and soon his lips were back on my neck, kissing, tasting, tugging on my skin. I turned my head, giving him as much of my neck as he wanted, and he covered me with more of his mouth, pulling down the side of my dress to kiss my shoulder. His hand ran across my neck and collarbone, and I leaned away to give him more, always more. He traced my skin with his fingertips, his eyes hungry and on my body.
I’d never felt passion like this in my life. I’d liked guys before, and had obviously been attracted to them, but nothing like this. With my ex, Paul, the kisses and everything else had been slow and dull, nothing like the feeling I had of wanting to rip every inch of clothing off Leo as he did the same to me.
He pulled one side of my dress strap down off my shoulder, then the other, kissing my chest as he went. I hoped with every cell in my body that he planned to kiss every inch of me, no matter how long it took. I’d never needed something so much in my life as I needed more of him, right then.
I reached behind me and unhooked my bra, exposing my bare breasts to him. His breath deepened as his eyes took me in.
“My god,” he said. “You’re so beautiful.”
His hand held my breast firmly as his mouth went back to my skin, going lower, onto the top of my breast as his hand stayed on the other, his thumb brushing across my hardened nipple. I arched my back, giving him more. His tongue lapped across my nipple and I gripped onto the back of his head, gathering his curls in my hand as I tried not to cry out. The slow licks his tongue made had me panting, and when he gently took my nipple between his teeth and gave a little pull, I moaned.
“Please,” I said. “Don’t stop.”
He gave me what I wanted. His mouth worked over my breasts more urgently, his hand holding and kneading me, and then his mouth was on me again, taking as much in as he could while his tongue worked its magic, rocking a sensitive spot in me, making me completely wet, wishing he could be all over me at once. The things he’d done to me so far—at his apartment, on his plane, and even here tonight—showed me that he knew exactly what my body wanted before I even knew myself. Tonight, though, I didn’t want to stop.
“Leo,” I said, but it came out like a moan. My head was tilted back, my fingers still tangled in his hair. I tried again. “Leo, wait. Not here.”
He pulled back and looked at me, concern in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll stop.” His fingers touched my face softly. “I don’t what it is about you, Sophie, but you’re impossible to resist. Should I slow down? Or stop?”
I found it utterly charming that he was worried about pushing me too far when all I wanted to do was go all the way, and now. I smiled and said, “Do not stop. Do not slow down. Just…not here. On the couch. If that’s okay.”
His eyes darkened as he crushed his