I croak, my hand lifting to graze the warm skin of her jaw.
Shivering under my fingertips, she blinks up at me. “Yeah?”
Without thinking, I slide my fingers to her nape and then run my thumb along her cheekbone. She shifts toward me millimeter by millimeter until I can feel the tips of her breasts brush my chest and the scent of her hair fills my nose. She’s temptation incarnate. Her lips are right there, pink and lush. She’s so tall, I wouldn’t have to stoop at all. Just lean in and –
Our lips touch in a feather soft caress.
Ellie
For the entire week, I’ve been imagining this moment, the one where we would finally kiss. And my imagination came up short – way short. I knew there would be chemistry, but I didn’t quite grasp how overwhelming it would be, how very decadent.
With his hand holding me steady, our mouths begin to play and tease until we find a rhythm that has my stomach swooping and twirling with lazy euphoria, lighting me up from the inside out. I don’t think he can believe how good it is either because he’s making these small, gratifying noises that cause my blood to bubble and fizz with arousal as one long kiss bleeds into another and then another and another.
Is this real? Is Scott really kissing me?
I lean into him, and his other hand joins the first at my neck. The sudden firmness of his grip sends more lust careening through me as he takes control, demanding I open to him. And if I thought his lips were good, the first brush of his tongue against mine is sublime.
“Jesus,” he mutters before he comes back for another taste with an urgency that has my head swimming and heat pooling low in my belly.
Soon he’s pressing himself closer, molding the tall, hard length of his body to mine. How I’ve wanted this. We fit together seamlessly, like an erotic jigsaw puzzle with our arms twining and his knee pushing between my thighs. He rocks his hips into me, and I gasp against his tongue as a streak of bliss radiates out from my core.
Wanting more of that, I slip my hands from his waist to his ass, trying to pull him more firmly against me. He takes the cue and surges forward again, his thigh pinning my hips to the door. I whimper at the intensity of being held down and bask in the delicious traces of the orgasm that are beginning to take hold.
“Look at you,” he rasps, his eyes devouring what I’m sure is my drugged, heavy-lidded expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than you at this very moment.”
I’m so busy writhing against him, longing for the bliss to coalesce that I can barely hum some kind of agreement. God, is that his dick pressing into my hip?
My mewls gain in volume as I squirm and buck over his thigh, but he just takes hold of my chin and turns my head to the side. “I could watch you like this all night,” he whispers into my ear, his tone vibrating down my spine. “All stirred up . . . just for me.”
I choke on a moan as his mouth leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck, each one searing its way down my body to settle between my thighs, joining the already all-consuming ache. The need to satisfy that ache has my hands tracing up the muscles in his back that shift and bunch under the thin fabric of his dress shirt until I reach his shoulders. I use the leverage to wrap a leg around his thigh, pulling him closer, opening myself up to him.
This time we both groan before our mouths crash back together. It’s manic now, hard and ravenous. He fills a palm with my breast, squeezing, hurtling me ever closer to completion. My fingers scrabble against the back of his shirt, looking for purchase on the slippery material to pull it from his pants. And all the while, his hips continue to tease and hint at how good it’s going to be to get this man inside of me.
I’d love nothing more than to live in this moment forever, high on his presence, reveling in his touch, hovering near the ultimate release, but my body insists on more.
“Scott,” I whine, my frustration mounting when I can’t get at all the warm skin I know is under his shirt.
“Let me,” he