his body to mine, his erection already evident as he presses against my ass. “I want to taste the scotch on your lips.”
My skin burns. I lift the glass, knock some back, then set it down. With my back against his stomach, Fitz raises an arm, grips my jaw, and turns my face to claim my lips in a heady, electric kiss.
It makes my head swim and my skin feel too tight for my body.
It torches my blood.
My God, how can kissing do this to me? I want so much more. I want all of him inside me, and yet I don’t want to stop kissing him.
I swivel around, and I’m in his arms, my hands looping around his neck, his around my hips. Arms and hands move everywhere, grasping, gripping, feeling.
I groan as I jerk him closer, needing the contact, needing to feel his body firm against mine.
We kiss like it’s all we’ve thought about since we separated a few hours ago.
His lips are hungry, and he sucks and nibbles and torments. Then he spears his tongue into my mouth, and I groan from the wicked pleasure of his touch, since he’s grinding against me too, the outline of his cock finding mine.
And my head drifts into a passion-fueled haze.
Lust travels down my spine, echoing across my whole body.
And I want.
I want Fitz so much I can feel it in my lungs. I want him ferociously, with a desperation I haven’t known in ages.
Or maybe I’ve never known it could be quite like this.
This intense.
This . . . devouring.
And my God, I want to devour him.
I want to toss him on the bed, strip him naked, and just have him, fuck him. Do what I want to him.
But I know he needs us a certain way, and I can do that for him. I can give, and I can take.
What I can’t do, though, is wait.
I break the kiss, panting, eyes wild, I’m sure. I clasp his face and say the words. “You need to fuck me right now.”
He growls. That’s all. Just a carnal growl that heats me up even more.
Fitz jerks at my shirt, then rips it over my head. “Need you naked. Need it now.”
“Same. Same to you,” I say, my breath already ragged with desire as I grab at the waistband of his jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, pushing them down.
I lick my lips the second I see his hard cock, ready for me, a glistening drop of liquid at the crown. I run my thumb over it, bring it to my lips, lick it, and savor the taste of him.
“You taste so fucking good,” I tell Fitz as his blue eyes go glassy, like he can barely handle the sight of me reveling in his flavor.
“Touch me again,” he groans, long and powerful.
“Like I’d do anything else,” I say, lowering my hand to his shaft.
He thrusts against my fist. “God, you’re driving me crazy, Dean. I’m so fucking turned on by you,” he says, wrapping his palm around my hand, so we’re both stroking him. “You do this to me. You just fucking do this to me.”
Anticipation zaps through my body like a current as I indulge in several long, tantalizing strokes. Touching Fitz, sending him to this frenzied state is such a high. I don’t want to stop at all.
But soon he swats my hand away with a feral grunt, so he can shove at my clothes, stripping me to nothing too.
Then he takes two steps backward and sits on the edge of the bed. His hand goes straight to his cock, and he grips it roughly, savagely. “Get on me. Ride me so fucking hard. Please.”
My dick twitches at his filthy command that’s almost a beg. Fitz grabs the lube he’s left on the bed, next to a condom. As I straddle him, he flips open the bottle, slides two quick, eager fingers into me. I stroke myself as he gets me ready, and it’s all so damn intense I don’t know how I’ll last.
But I’m willing to find out.
Oh hell, am I ever willing.
For a few seconds, I let myself get lost in the sensations of what his fingers are doing, but I know something so much better is coming, so I focus on what’s next, grab the protection, and slide it on his thick shaft.
Then I rise up, my knees on either side of his thighs as Fitz takes his cock in his hand, holding the base, rubbing the tip against my