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"Don't do it," she warned him, in a voice that clearly conveyed she absolutely did want him to do it.
"You." He pulled her up against him. "Can't stop me."
Bree reached inside his coat and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I can scream."
Ian laughed softly. "In pleasure, maybe."
"Puh-leeze."
His hands were somehow miraculously on her butt, and they were sliding lower and lower, sort of stroking in a way that made her suck in a breath at the kick of desire that sideswiped her.
"Is that a challenge?" he asked, his head bent close to hers, his mouth inches from hers.
Duh. "Yes. Try to make me scream." Preferably not on her front porch in thirty-degree weather, but at the moment, she was even willing to give that a go.
"You're really asking for it, you know."
"Yes, I am." Bree was enjoying that Ian looked more than willing to give it to her. He had an erection pressing firmly into her thigh, and he looked like he could literally eat her from the bottom up right there with no encouragement. Perfect.
"Here it is then," he said, as he closed the distance between them and took her lips in a searing kiss.
Bree barely had time to open her mouth before Ian was slamming her back into her front door and burying his hands in her hair as he kissed her senseless. Whoa. Hello. Bree gripped the front of his jacket for support and gave as good as she got. There was definitely amazing chemistry between them, and he could make her hot in less time than it took to sneeze. Her mind went blank, and she forgot the cold, forgot the gawking neighbor, and only registered the heat, the pleasure, the intense desire to touch all of this man everywhere, to know him, to have him inside her.
The front door popped open suddenly from his hand turning the knob, hurtling her backwards. She would have fallen, but Ian held her steady before easing her carefully down onto the floor. He kicked the front door shut with his foot and Bree blinked up at him as he hovered over her, unzipping his pants.
"Are we having sex on the floor again?" she asked, spreading her legs slightly in invitation.
"I think so," he said, his fingers already shoving her skirt up. "I'm sorry, but there are just too many stairs in this house. It will take at least three minutes to get upstairs and I can't wait that long."
Bree gave a soft moan when he slid her panties down more quickly than carefully. "That is a long time to wait."
"And I am supposed to be debauching you."
"You're doing a good job of it." Bree would have added a comment about the view they were probably giving anyone who happened to wander up onto her porch and glance in her giant windows—like say Edith from next door—when her breath was literally taken away from his pushing inside her with an aggressive thrust.
Bree's eyes rolled back in her head and her entire body stood up and did the happy dance. "Oh, Ian."
She couldn't imagine why she had ever thought it was a good idea to go twenty months without sex. Sex rocked, and she loved it, especially with Ian. He knew every way to touch, every way to take, and she liked that he never hesitated, that he just knew his intentions would be well received.
He stroked in and out of her faster, then slower, harder, softer, teasing her until she was squirming beneath him and rocking her hips up to meet him, begging for more, for release, for him to never stop. The way she had in her dream. "Ian . . . please. God." Bree had no clue what she was even asking for, she just wanted everything, all of him, wanted him inside her indefinitely, and the blissful feeling of an empty mind to go on and on.
She was sliding backwards on the floor, her fingers jerking across his firm chest with each of his thrusts, and she couldn't react, could only feel, appreciate, breathe.
"What, Bree? What do you want?"
He had to ask that, when she was too steeped in pleasure, too insensate to articulate what she was feeling, so she just pried her eyes open and met his steady gaze. "You. I want you."
Ian groaned. "Bree."
She felt his orgasm, felt his muscles clench, his shoulders tense, felt the pulsing of him deep inside her, and she let go herself, came together with him, so that they were wrapped in pleasure together.
Ian dropped kisses on her forehead, her temples, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "You are beautiful."
Bree smiled, her body and her soul incredibly satisfied. He had said she was beautiful at least four times that day. Not that she'd been keeping count, but it was nice to hear. "And you're hot."
"I'm going to carry you upstairs now," he said. "I need a twenty-minute nap, then the debauching will continue."
"You can't carry me all the way upstairs. There's like seventeen steps."
