ceiling, searching for words, searching for courage. “Spend the summer with me, and more if you still want me, and then we can—” I break off when he pulls back, his head tilted to look up at me.
“What are you saying, Mia?”
“Stay,” is all I can think to say. And I’m reminded of being fourteen, sitting on that water tower when he asked the very same of me. Stay. With him. For him. I force myself to stop the memories there. To not think about what happened next.
He’s still watching me, unsure, and so I lean down. “Stay,” I whisper against his lips. My mouth parts on his, my tongue begging for access. He doesn’t move. Not an inch. Seconds pass. I refuse to give up. To let him go. Not like this. I press my knee to the mattress, and then the other, until I’m straddling his lap, my chest to his, my arms around him as I settle my face to the crook of his neck. He stutters a breath, his hands shifting from my waist to my back, holding me there, pulling me closer. I rear back, my eyes clear, and my mind clearer. “I’m not letting you go, Leo. Not anymore, and never again.” He blinks. “The other night, you said that I was yours, in your mind and in your heart, so I’m here, asking you, begging you… make me yours.”
His eyes flash, and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “For how long?”
“For however long you choose me.” I don’t wait for a response. I kiss him again, and this time, he kisses me back. We’re nothing but lips and tongues and teeth and hands and breaths all meshed together, as if we can’t get enough, as if we need this to survive. Suddenly, we’re pulling apart, staring at each other. And when we come together again, everything slows, everything clicks, like we both just realized that we have something now that we’ve never had before. We have time.
He swirls his tongue against mine in that Lazy Leo way, and I let my moan drown in his kiss, in the way one hand grips my ass while the other travels up my spine, until his fingers comb through my hair, and then he tugs. I moan again, my head pulled back with his force. Our lips part, but he keeps his on my heated flesh, moving down my neck, my collarbone. I push down, grind, circle my hips, needing more of him. All of him. “Slow down, baby,” he murmurs, but I can’t. I keep going, my mind lost to my body as I feel the pleasure build at my core.
He smacks my ass and tugs my head back again. “Oh, fuck,” I whimper, my movements slowing. I bite my lip while his face hovers over mine, breaths harsh against my cheeks.
He looks down at me, his eyes heated. “I said slow the fuck down. You’re going to make me come.”
“Isn’t that the point?” I breathe out.
He shakes his head. “Not with you.” And then he smirks, and I want to lick that smirk off his face. I want to lick every single inch of him. And I want him to order me to do so.
Oh, god.
He keeps one hand in my hair as he rears back, his eyes scanning my face. He runs the back of his fingers over the tip of my breast, causing my eyes to shut in pleasure. “I love it when you wear these pajamas,” he tells me. “They remind me of Christmas.”
My eyes snap open. “What?” I look down at my red plaid pajamas and almost cringe with embarrassment. It’s the absolute least sexy thing I could’ve worn on the night I decide to lose my virginity.
He smiles to one side. “Like wrapping paper.” He undoes the top button. “I was always slow to unwrap my gifts,” he says, his eyes focused on loosening the buttons so methodically, I might just combust in his arms. “I liked the anticipation of peeling back the layers and finding a gift inside. A gift just for me.” He has all the buttons undone, but he doesn’t spread the fabric apart. He simply slides his hand from my stomach, up to my breast, his eyes locked on mine. He doesn’t squeeze; he just cups, so gentle, so safe. I suppress another moan when his thumb flicks across my pointed flesh. I want him to pinch them, to bite them, to devour