Neve (Silver Skates #3) - Helen Scott Page 0,21

my own. There was nothing tentative or subtle about this kiss. No, this kiss was claiming me as his, branding my very soul with the fire and longing that his lips communicated.

“Rory,” I gasped out as his hands smoothed down my back over my ass and pulled me tight to him so I could feel his hardness against my belly. That wasn’t where I wanted to feel it though, so I lifted one leg around his hips, and he pulled it even higher before tapping my other leg. I jumped slightly, and he helped lift me so that my legs were wrapped around his waist and the bulge in his pants was pressing exactly where I needed to feel it. We stood like that for a moment, him just holding me as our lips and tongues battled, before he walked us over to the kitchen counter and perched me on the edge.

He pulled away from me and began slowly and deliberately undressing me. First the cowl scarf was whipped over my head, then the sweater. When he saw the T-shirt underneath, he raised an eyebrow at me.

“What? It’s cold on the ice.” I shrugged as though he weren’t making me feel flustered.

He reached forward and tucked his fingers under the fabric, peeling it from my body and over my head. When he saw the tank I was wearing under that, he snorted with laughter. “How many layers are you wearing?”

“Why don’t you keep going and find out?” I replied, holding my arms up over my head so he could remove the tank as well.

The cream fabric flashed over my face as he pulled it off. When I could see his face again, his eyes, which were hooded with lust, were locked onto my breasts. I was beyond happy that I’d decided to wear one of my nice bras. Not that any of my bras were particularly ugly, but this one was maroon lace with thin strips of solid material that started at various places at the bottom of the cup and all met in the same spot at the top, making it look almost like my breasts were caged, which had cracked me up when I first thought of it.

After a moment of staring, Rory’s hands smoothed down my waist and my legs to my feet, where he pulled my boots off one at a time, followed by my socks. When he ran his hands back up my legs, anticipation made my breath come in short pants, especially as he dipped under my skirt and found the waistband of my leggings.

Between the two of us, we shimmied and pulled and got the leggings off without me getting down off the counter, which would have probably been a lot easier. This time when his hands ran back up my legs, it was over my skin and made goosebumps break out all over. This time, he pushed my skirt up until my matching underwear was displayed.

Rory hooked his fingers around the waistband of my underwear and pulled. I raised my butt off the counter enough for him to get them off. When he pushed his hands back up my legs, I grabbed him by the jacket and yanked the zipper down, pushing it off his shoulders as we both began working on getting him out of his clothes. Under his jacket, he’d been wearing a sweater and T-shirt as well, both of which came off in one go until he was in front of me bare chested.

I ran my fingertips over the swell of his pectoral muscles and through the rough patch of hair in the center of his chest before trailing them down, over his abs, to the waistband of his pants. When I tugged at the belt buckle, he got the hint and stripped out of those too, but unfortunately, left his boxers on. I didn’t miss that they had small seashells all over them though, which was kind of adorable.

Instead of stepping close again where I could get my hands on him and shove those boxers down, he dropped to his knees and rested his hands on my calves. When he looked up at me from that position, I felt so powerful, and as he pushed my legs apart, that feeling only grew.

“May I?” he asked.

I nodded, not that I really knew what he was asking, but I suspected, and I was not about to turn down some tongue action.

Rory kissed the inside of both my knees and alternated