one?”
“All,” I managed to say. “All of it. Yes.”
“Thank God,” he muttered, then kissed me hard and deep.
I looped my arms around his neck and held tight as he stood, helping me to my feet. He took my mouth with sure, rhythmic thrusts of his tongue, mimicking exactly what we were headed for, and my body liquified.
“I want you in my bed the first time,” he said against my mouth.
“The first time?”
“And maybe the second, even the third.” He kissed me between words as we stumbled out of the dining room and up the wide staircase. The moving part was all him, I was too busy kissing him back, unleashing the need I’d kept such tight reins on, to notice where my feet went.
We made it to the landing of the staircase before he gripped my ass and lifted me into his arms. I locked my ankles around his waist and kept kissing him, groaning at the taste of orange soda and Nixon as he carried us up the remaining stairs and into his bedroom.
I felt the bed at my back and unhooked my ankles, kicking off my slippers in the process. I should have worn better underwear. Should have broken out some explicit lingerie—not that I owned any. Nixon didn’t seem to mind as he yanked his shirt off and slid over me, bringing his hips to rest in the cradle of my thighs.
I raised my arms, and he did the rest, sending my shirt to join his on the floor.
“Lace.” He palmed my breasts, then lowered his head and sucked my nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue as he held it gently between his teeth. I gasped, spearing my fingers into his hair as he moved to my other breast and did the same.
His hand slid beneath my back, and my bra came undone. It landed somewhere to the left.
“God, you’re gorgeous.” From the look in his eyes, he meant it. There was only appreciation and hunger in his gaze.
“You are,” I said, my voice thin as I trailed my fingers across his shoulders.
He flashed me a wicked grin, then kissed a path across my breasts, taking his time with each peak as I arched beneath him. Then he moved down my body, stroking the curve of my waist with his hands, moving to my hips and thighs.
His eyes met mine in unspoken question, and I lifted my hips with a nod.
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my pants, then drew them down my legs, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.
“I’m going to devour you,” he promised with a hand on each of my thighs.
“Only if you do it without your pants on.” I eyed his gray sweatpants and arched a brow. “Equal footing, remember?”
He doubled down, taking off everything. Sweet Lord, he was a masterpiece. The weight he’d picked up in the last few months showed in every line of his muscles, to include the curve of a really nice ass. His abs weren’t just lean anymore, they were stacked, roped, tapering into a V that made my mouth water, and strong thighs—and whoa. Yeah, he was perfect everywhere.
My gaze flew to his.
“Now you have the advantage.” He parted my thighs.
“I’d say you’re working with a pretty nice advantage yourself.” I lifted my knee, running it along the outside of his thigh.
He laughed softly, dipping to kiss the inside of that knee, then slowly, methodically worked his way up the inside of my thigh. My breaths grew choppier with each inch he gained. At this rate, I’d be hyperventilating before he even got me naked.
“So soft,” he said against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
My hips rolled, urging him higher.
Again, his eyes met mine, and I nodded, arching so he could remove the last scrap of fabric between us. My thong hit the floor, and a heartbeat later, his mouth was between my thighs, his fingers parting me wide for his tongue.
“Nixon!” My fingers clutched at the covers, gathering fistfuls of fabric as my anchor. His mouth drove me higher, the pleasure so intense I gasped for every breath.
“I could stay here all night.” He hooked my knees over his shoulders like he was going to do exactly that, then proceeded to push me to the edge of madness, licking and sucking at me until I was on the verge of orgasm, then backing down until I caught my breath.
“Nixon,” I begged, rocking my hips as I rode that edge