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“No, you don’t,” I said, my hands resting on his hips. I felt the tension and heat radiating from him.
His eyes blazed with a mix of frustration and desire. “You drive me crazy,” he admitted, his voice softer now.
I leaned in, my lips brushing his ear. “I know, but you want me as much as I want you.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he sighed in resignation, his body relaxing against mine. The rain continued to pound against the windows, the dim light casting shadows that danced around the room. The warmth of the heating and the coziness of the sofa seemed to wrap around us, creating a bubble where nothing else mattered.
Neil’s breath hitched as I ran my hands up his back, pulling him closer. “I hate you,” he whispered again, but this time was less convincing.
“Show me how much,” I challenged, my voice husky with need.
He captured my lips in a fierce kiss, pouring out all the pent-up frustration and desire in that moment. Then, without a word, he scrambled off, too quick for me to catch. I watched him for a heartbeat, my mind reeling. But when I saw him heading to the bedroom, something clicked inside. I wasn’t going to let him walk away, not without making him understand.
I followed him, ready to apologize, to make him see that this was me being the most real I’d ever been. Also, I wanted him, not out of desperation or confusion, but for all the right reasons. He stopped at the bedroom door, and I froze for a second, wondering if he would turn around. But he didn’t. Instead, he started to remove his uniform, one layer at a time, methodically placing each piece on achair in the corner. He never looked back, but I knew he was aware of me standing there, just as I knew this was my moment to break through the last of his defenses.
Then, as if he could sense my hesitation, Neil turned to me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. “You have too many clothes on,” he said, his voice low, almost rough with unspoken need.
I’d never stripped so fast in my life. My fingers fumbled with the buttons, the zipper, and anything in the way until I was down to nothing, not a shred of clothing or hint of doubt left. By the time I looked up, Neil had crawled onto the bed, naked, his body a perfect mix of tension and surrender.
“Okay.” He was resigned, as if he’d made a final, hard-won decision. “Okay,” he repeated, softer this time, and held his hand to me. “I’m done fighting this.”
His words hit me like a jolt, even though I knew exactly what he meant. There was no more pretending, no more walls between us. I crossed the room in a few quick steps, taking his outstretched hand. With our fingers laced, he pulled me down on top of him. I tumbled onto the bed, onto him. As he spread his legs, I settled between his.
“Show me what you’ve got, Mr. I-think-I’m-all-that.”
“You think I’m all that?” I teased and lowered my lips to his, enjoying a long, lazy kiss that was less about sex and more about everything I felt for Neil.
“No,” he murmured when we separated. “I said,youthink you’re all that. I don’t have any opinion on the subject.”
“You’re lying,” I said and tracked kisses from his lips tohis chin and then to his neck, lower until I could suck a mark I knew would be hidden by his uniform. I trailed licks and nibbles from Neil’s neck, savoring the way his breath hitched with each kiss. The taste of his skin was intoxicating, and his warmth beneath me only fueled the fire. As I moved lower, I could feel his muscles tense and relax. He carded a hand through my hair, his fingers curling there, not to guide or control, but to anchor himself, the other hand touching my face.
“What have you done to me?” he moaned as if he didn’t want to feel all of this we had going on.
As if he were going to up and leave at any minute.
“Stay still.”
I couldn’t tell if I was warning or begging.
“Stuff!” He flailed a hand toward the nightstand, unable to reach it because I had him trapped beneath me.
Shit. He’s trapped beneath me. I could do anything.
Iwantto do everything.
“In a minute,” I managed as I kissed and nibbled his left nipple and then his right.
I kissed a path down his chest, my lips grazing over the faint contours of his body, feeling every slight tremor running through him. His skin was so impossibly soft, and I couldn’t get enough of it. Each kiss I placed was deliberate, a promise, a plea, an unspoken confession of everything I felt.
When I reached his belly, the softness there made me pause, made me want to linger. He didn’t have a six-pack. He wasn’t only hard and muscled; he was a contradiction of edges and lines and smooth and soft, and I wanted it all. I pressed my lips gently to his tenderbelly, feeling the slight give of his flesh beneath me, whispered kisses there and then lower, until I was able to lick and suck his cock, never taking him fully in my mouth, playing with him like a puppy with a toy. I wanted to learn every inch of him, and I felt like a goddamn winner when I found a birthmark on his inner thigh. I kissed him there, my cheek nudging his cock, which was hard in my hands.
He yanked my hair. “Suck me,” he demanded.
But there was no way he was in control of this. Yes, I was versatile, and yes, I hoped to hell that one day he’d pin me and make me lose my mind, but today was all about me showing him what I wanted, and as I licked him from root to tip, I was taking it all.
Now I needed condoms, I needed lube, I needed more kisses. I reared up over him, caged him, took his hands, held them loosely in mine, pressed him to the mattress, and kissed him again, slower this time, letting my mouth linger as I breathed him in, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath my lips.
“Babe, you’re beautiful,” I whispered, and he couldn’t answer me as I kissed him hard, although I saw his frown.
