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No, I don’t care that we both probably need a shower and a long sleep after traveling.
He’s right here, all six foot something of him.
All mine, and that will always be enough.
“You can’t get rid of me now,” I say as I kiss him. “This is it. You’re trapped with me forever.”
“Who said I’m complaining?”
I kiss him harder, and he grinds against me, hinting what’s coming next.
Though the temptation is there to tear those clothes off, to feel his skin on mine, I force myself to slow down.
To work methodically, tracing every part of his body, running my nails over his tense muscles with slow, sensual pleas.
“Tease,” he grinds out.
“What’s the rush? We have all the time in the world.” I wrap my legs around his hips and push until he’s grinding against that sweet spot. The sudden rush of sensation makes me moan. “We don’t have to hurry…”
He nips my earlobe. “That doesn’t mean we have to go slow. Just means we can come up for air and fuck half the night.”
“Dex!”
He runs a hand under my top, across my stomach to the edge of my bra, then under it, palming my breast.
I arch my back into his hand and he laughs.
“Tell me you want to wait now,” he whispers, kissing down my neck. “Tell me and I will.”
It should be illegal for this man to make me feel this good.
I melt under his hands, his kisses, loose-limbed and eager for more.
As his mouth goes to work, he obliterates any rational thought.
“Go on,” he whispers, pulling on my nipple with his teeth.
The sensation arcs to the heat pooling in my core. I’m probably embarrassingly wet, but considering he feels almost painfully hard as he rubs against me, I don’t think it matters.
I grind my hips against him, groaning as I feel his hard-on. “Slow and steady wins the race.”
His other hand finds my other nipple, but instead of pulling on it like I want him to, he just trails his fingers around it.
My bra’s getting in the way—all our clothes, really—but to admit that would be admitting defeat.
He thrusts against me intently, and I tighten my legs around him.
God, if he keeps this up, I’m going to come before he even has me undressed.
“Junie,” he croons. “Think of the shit I could do to you without these pants.”
What? He’s doing plenty to me now.
And thinking is getting difficult.
The only thing I can focus on is what’s happening between my legs and the intense pulsing in my clit.
Maybe it’s because I’ve waited for this moment all day, or maybe it’s always like this when you’re newlyweds. But everything feels more intense, like my body is a live wire craving a current.
