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“You remember the night we met?”
“I remember that I wanted to keep you for myself and hide you from the world. But I didn’t.”
“I wish you had.”
“Me, too. I screwed up. Not this time.”
The second pair of gloves were disposed of. A swivel of his chair guided us around to his computer, and he reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a stuffed bear that was identical to the one on my forearm, right down to the sweatshirt. He even wore the same ring, and it sparkled in the natural light, kissing us through open drapes.
“Oh, my God.”
“This is your surprise. Do you like it?” He wiggled the white gold band from the furry wrist onto my finger, and I lost the ability to breathe, entranced by its majestic colors.
“Breathe...” Remi encouraged, but nothing happened. The air stayed trapped in my lungs. “Breathe. Now. Do it now, Cat.” His hand was on my back, rubbing in circles.
Those words, and the panic within them, almost felt familiar. I ignored the potential memory, but I breathed and the first breath fought a laugh on its way out.
I didn’t say a word, but my lips landed on his with a kiss.
“You’ve always known how to fucking scare me,” he whispered against my mouth.
And I took advantage of his open lips, pushing my tongue inside to dance with his. It caught him by surprise, but he didn’t fight it, sinking into the kiss—into me. Rough hands pulled my body closer, needing me too much.
Friction teased the bulge inflating beneath me as I moved over him, the kiss getting harder.
His head tilted back, allowing the kiss to deepen. His tongue slid over mine, demanding dominance.
His hard cock, imprisoned behind a layer of denim, slid along my underwear, through the crease of my outer lips, and the cotton dampened and stuck to me.
His heartbeat kissed my fingertips as fast as his mouth did mine.
He wanted more. He needed it.
And I needed it, too, utterly aching for him—my future husband.
His eyes opened, and his senses—skilled in all things me—snapped to alert over my minor hesitation. My body’s image still taunted me, thoughts of how he’d be disgusted by me.
“Let me lead,” he whispered to me, the words caressing my flesh as his mouth moved down my neck and his hands dragged my hips over his hard cock.
I moaned into his mouth a little.
His erection got even harder—no doubt, painful for him.
He tilted his hips as he brought mine down. The pleasure of human touch, my hand stalking up his chest to his jaw, his up the inside of my bare thigh, gave us both goosebumps. His fingers kept moving until they slipped around my body and inside my underwear, gripping my ass cheeks to have more control of how fast my covered pussy rubbed his concealed cock.
I grew wetter, his thickness pushing my soaked underwear inside my pussy lips.
The denim and torturous cotton prevented us from getting what we needed to—the aching between each other’s legs.
My hips moved a little, and his heavy guidance slacked off with how he guided me over him, allowing me to take the lead.
My breathing rasped, and my fingers dug into his shoulders for purchase.
My body began to tremble as his perfect cock hit my clit in the most delicious way.
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
I couldn’t hold on.
