moaned into his mouth and wound my arms around his neck, scratching my nails along his scalp as the kiss turned molten.
One of his arms came around me, his hand slipping down to palm my ass and give it a harsh squeeze that nearly bordered on painful. It was so strange, but instead of being turned off at the near-brutality of the touch, it sent fire blazing though my veins. I craved more.
My mouth disengaged from his and my head dropped back on a groan at the feel of his fingers digging into my flesh through my jeans.
“You like that?” he asked, before pulling the lobe of my ear between his teeth and nipping.
“God, yes,” I answered as my body shuddered.
“You like it a little rough, Red?”
I never had before, or at least I didn’t think I had. But for some reason, the thought of Micah being a little rough with me made my clit tingle.
“Yeah,” I sighed before going back in, drawing his bottom lip into my mouth and giving it a little bite.
I swallowed his growl hungrily as he fisted my hair tighter, forcing my head back. His tongue flicked across my pulse, and there was no holding back my needy whimper.
When he pulled away his pupils were blown, his eyes looked nearly black with desire. “Fuck me,” he rasped. “You wet for me, baby?”
Fighting his grip on my hair and growing wetter at the slight sting in my scalp, I leaned into him and dragged my tongue across the seam of his lips, feeling like a completely different woman as I replied in a husky whisper, “Why don’t you find out?”
He didn’t have to be told twice. His hand at my ass moved fast as lightning, unbuttoning my jeans and shoving past the waistband. His fingers dove past my panties, pushing straight between my thighs to graze the most sensitive part of me. He let out a long groan as I sucked in a gasp at the feel of him begin to toy with me.
“Jesus, you’re soaked. So slick.” He hummed appreciatively. His middle finger found my clit and pressed down. “You need more?”
“Yes,” I hissed, circling my hips to get just that. More. “Please, Mi—” My words cut off on a sharp inhale when he drove two fingers deep inside me. “Oh, God,” I panted, rocking harder against his hand. “Yeah, Micah. Just like that.”
A cry of protest spilled past my lips when he pulled his hand away and took a step back, but before I could voice my displeasure, he reached behind his head and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling it off to reveal the slab of chiseled marble that made up his phenomenal chest and stomach.
“Holy shit,” I murmured on an exhale, all the air expelling from my lungs as I reached forward and dragged my nails down his sculpted pecs and defined abs. “You’re incredible.”
A low, rolling sound, like a combination of a purr and thunder, vibrated from his chest at my touch. I was so lost in my exploration of his physique that I was taken by surprise when he reached for the hem of my sweater and whipped it over my head. That sound came from him once again, and after brushing the hair from my eyes, I saw him staring at me like I was an ice cream cone on the hottest day ever recorded. I was suddenly glad I’d thrown out all my old underwear after the divorce and went on a spree, buying all new frilly, sexy bras and panties. As of that very moment, I considered it the best money I’d ever spent.
“Jesus, fuck,” he grated. “Your body’s a goddamn work of art.”
He was back on me in a heartbeat, popping the clasp on my bra and tossing it across the room. He palmed my heavy breasts, thumbing my painfully stiff nipples before bending down so he could suck the aching peak into his mouth . . . hard. The sting quickly gave way to pleasure that soaked my panties through. It had never happened before, but if he kept going, there was a very good chance I could come just from this.
“God, Micah,” I panted, grabbing his hair and holding him close as he switched to the other breast. I rocked my hips against him, feeling the outline of his erection behind his jeans. It was hard as steel, bigger than anything I’d felt before, and I wanted it more than I wanted donuts