loving the way my pulse hammers for him.
As he slides his hands over my ass, feeling my curves beneath his palms, lust skates across my skin, chasing his touch. His fingers dig into my ass, pushing my body down against his crotch.
And I feel it.
For the second time, I feel his steel-hard cock in his pants, throbbing against his zipper as if it’s trying to reach me. Rolling my hips against it, I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of his need.
I want it. Him. Sex. I want to grip his cock in my hand and feel the velvety skin beneath my fingers. I want to taste his seed and watch lust overtake him. I want to crack myself open and give everything to him.
It feels like I’m discovering sex for the first time all over again. When Kit slips his hands under my shirt and sweeps them over the skin on my back, desire throbs deep in my core. It pulses, clenching and unclenching deep inside me as my body reacts to his touch.
We’re speaking to each other on a primal level. A carnal language. His hardness pressing against me. My body rolling, grinding, pressing over his.
When Kit slides my shirt off over my head and drops his hands to my breasts, I lean back and watch his gaze darken. Through hooded eyes, Kit trails his hands down the straps of my bra and runs his fingers over the edge of the cups. His thumbs slide over the band, teasing the underside of my breasts before dropping down lower. Gently, almost reverently, Kit slides his hands down to my navel.
“When I saw you at the airport with this jewel sparkling on your stomach, my cock got harder than it’s been in years,” he says. His voice is low. Growly. His thumbs tease my belly button, brushing the edges of my piercing. His palms are warm, pressing into my stomach and sending tendrils of heat and desire piercing lower.
I lean back, resting my arms on his knees behind me. In this position, with my legs straddling his lap and my body leaning back, my stomach is pulled taut and my breasts sit high. Kit groans, running his hands back up to slip the straps of my bra off my shoulders.
I bite my lip, watching him.
Lust swells inside me, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. Need crashes into me and my whole body starts to tremble. I grip Kit’s knees harder, grinding my center against his.
When Kit runs his hand down my stomach again, sliding his fingers down the waistband of my sweats, I wonder if my wetness will soak through. The dirty part of me wants it to. I want him to see how wet he makes me.
His hands feel incredible. I never want him to stop touching me. I want him to look at me exactly as he is—like I’m the most beautiful creation he’s ever seen. I want to feel his hands sliding over my skin as electricity jumps to follow his touch. I want to feel the heat building in my core and the wetness building between my legs.
I want to enjoy this.
It’s not a chore. It’s not something I’m doing to keep him satisfied. I want Kit. Desperately. Primally. Ferally.
As if he can sense my need, Kit wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into him, sliding a palm over my cheek and tangling his fingers into my hair. Curling his hand into a fist, he pulls my hair tight and holds my head back. I gasp, pain needling into my skull as my whole body tenses.
Then, I feel his tongue. Warm. Wet. Dragging up my neck as he groans at the taste of me.
We haven’t even kissed. We’re doing everything backward, but I don’t care. My hips are moving of their own accord, rocking against his hard cock as too many layers of clothing separate us.
“Serena,” Kit groans, inhaling my skin. He kisses my neck, my earlobe, my shoulder, then sinks his teeth into the soft flesh at the base of my neck. I gasp, closing my eyes as my fingers cling to his shoulders.
He’s marking me. Branding me. Owning me.
His hands splay on my back, pulling me closer. The power coiled in his strong, broad body doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t intimidate me.
It excites me.
Deep, throbbing eagerness, welling up from some source that lay dormant for a long time. Delicious delirium sparks through my body, breathing new life into