She dropped her camera bag to the carpeted floor and slid the lock into place. In a second I was behind her, dragging my nose along her exposed shoulder. “I like touching you too. So fucking much.”
“I like you touching me,” she whispered, facing the door, her fingers frozen on the lock.
I dragged my hands along her sides, traveling over the fabric of her tank top, along her waist, up her ribs to her breasts, then back down. With her hair pinned up, her neck was bare and inviting. I dipped my head to the soft, sweet flesh, inhaling her. She trembled, shudders racking her whole body. I kissed a path along her neck, up to her ear, then nipped her earlobe.
“Michael,” she said, all low and needy.
“Yes?”
She twisted to face me, looping her arms around my neck. “Last night was . . . intense.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded, then nibbled on her lip.
A part of me knew there was so much to say. Words about time and distance and longing. Questions about her heart and her head. Practical matters too, like how long she was in town. Would I see her again after today? And had she missed me over the years with the same kind of intensity I’d missed her?
My brain fought back, reminding me I was being ridiculous. This was just fiery lust, and it had been reignited so furiously it blazed white-hot.
“How intense?” I asked, brushing the backs of my fingers along her cheek. “We only kissed last night.”
“Kissing can drive you crazy, though, don’t you think?”
“I made you crazy last night?” I toyed with her, wanting to hear the admission from her, the breathless, gasping yes.
“Wild. I was wild,” she said, then reached for my hands and led me to the row of mirrors with the lights. She hopped up on the counter, perching on the edge, and beckoned me closer. With my thigh, I nudged open her legs and wedged myself between them. Ah, my favorite place to be. The place I wanted to get to know so much better. Ideally when we were both naked, but this was at least a good start.
She roped her arms around my neck and raised her eyes to mine. Hers were a confession. A dirty one. “Last night wasn’t just the two of us kissing. When I returned to my room, there was more.”
“Tell me,” I said, threading a hand in her hair, letting the silk flames fall against my fingers. “I want to picture it exactly.”
“Standing up. Against the door. Fast, intense.”
I breathed out hard, electric heat sparking through me. “Did I make you come? Like I did all those other times?” I asked, reminding her that I was the first man to bring her to orgasm. My fingertips stroked the denim on her thighs, traveling a path I’d loved when I was younger. She’d loved it too—falling apart in the back of the car, my hands under her skirt. Her body had been such a discovery to me. Learning how she liked to be touched, how she moved, how she felt, so silky hot in my hands. How she sounded when she had her first orgasm. She’d learned all those things too. We were explorers together, mapping the terrain of our bodies.
“Yes,” she said on a breathy pant. “I moaned your name. The way you liked it.”
Desire surged in me, climbing up my spine, spreading over my skin. I’d loved the way she said my name when she came.
I cupped her cheeks in my hands, holding her face firmly, and sealed my mouth to hers, kissing her hard and rough, the way she liked it now, because she wasn’t the same girl I’d made out with after midnight in the back seat. She was a woman, and I was a man. I needed it harder, rougher, hungrier too. I drew her bottom lip between mine, sucking and nibbling as she writhed closer, wrapping her legs around me.
One hand snaked down her tank, brushing the top of a perfect breast, and I moaned deeply into her mouth then resumed the kiss, a commanding kiss that would leave her lips bruised. She arched her back, seeking more closeness.
Traveling from her breasts to her stomach to her jeans, I flicked open the top button. A clock sounded in my head, awareness that time was ticking, that someone could knock at any moment. The lock was in place, but even so, I wasn’t going to fuck her right now. That would happen when I could spread her out on a bed, worship her beautiful body, and kiss every inch of her skin. It would happen, too, when she was ready.
My blood heated as I imagined how intense it would be to have her.
There wasn’t time now for all that I wanted, but there were more than enough minutes to make her come. I unzipped and pulled down her jeans, and she gripped my shoulders, her breath coming out in a hungry moan. Sliding my hand over the fabric of her panties, my fingertips traced what I suspected was a perfect auburn landing strip waiting for me beneath the lace. I dropped lower, touching the wet panel of her panties.
“And evidently you’re a bit turned on now too,” I said, the understatement of the year.
“Just a tiny bit,” she said, as her mouth fell open. Her head rolled back. Legs widened. There was so much want in her eyes. So much need. Wedged between her legs, my cock throbbing and pressed hard against her thigh, I slid my fingers inside her panties, brushing wet, swollen lips.
Fuck.
Hot and velvet and so damn wet.
“I can take care of this for you.”
“Please.” Her voice was feathery, a soft, gasping cry.
I wasn’t sure who needed this more—me or her. I desperately wanted to make her lose control, to surrender. Hell, she seemed to crave it like air. Her heady moans, her breathy gasps told me she was a woman consumed. I could smell her need, could feel it radiating off of her. She was a tuning fork, vibrating at the highest frequency of desire.
I ran my fingers through her slick heat until I was coated in her.
“So good,” she whispered, as I traced circles over her clit.
I brought my fingers to my lips and sucked off her taste. Her green eyes widened, watching me. “How do I taste?” she asked breathlessly.
“Decadent,” I answered in a growl.
“Give me some,” she demanded.
And that was entirely new. This was not the Annalise I knew before. She’d never demanded to share. I was thrilled at this dirtier side of her.
“Such a greedy lover,” I teased, as I rubbed my fingers over her lips. Instantly, she drew me into her mouth, taking my fingers all the way in, sucking off her taste as if she were sucking my cock. My dick twitched, hardening to nearly uncomfortable levels in my pants. But I’d take this kind of torture. I’d fucking endure it for hours, just to witness the sight of her mad desire. She twirled her tongue around me, as if simulating how she’d take me in her mouth. She’d never done that. I’d never felt her lush lips on me.
She looked so good like that. So hot and greedy, her cheeks hollowed out as her lips gripped my fingers tight. More. I wanted to see more of this.
Taking my fingers from her mouth, I dipped them across her slick folds again, then returned them to her lips. I fucked her mouth with my fingers as I brought my other hand between her legs. As I stroked her, I learned her pace quickly—she liked it fast and hard—and I rubbed her clit like that, in perfect, speedy circles.
She moved her hips against my hand, writhing into me. Then, with her tongue, she pushed my fingers out of her mouth, freeing herself to moan broken words of bliss in her French accent.
Oh God.
So good.
Yes. More. That. Fuck me.