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I knead her erse, slowly, plunging my fingers into her flesh then withdrawing, over and over.
"I love steak," she blurts out as if I give a toss about her dietary preferences right now.
Her cheeks are turning faintly pink. She's even bonnier when she's aroused, and I intend to keep her on the edge until the moment I thrust into her body. So I push a finger between her buttocks for just long enough to make her breathe harder, those tits lifting every time she inhales. But I've tortured her long enough for the moment. I let her body slide down mine inch by inch until her feet touch down on the floor. Her right hand has wound up crushed between our bodies, directly over myslat.
She drags one finger up my length to the head, hesitating there. Then she fumbles with the button on my jeans.
"Uh-uh." I capture her hands, restraining them behind her. "Not yet."
"Why not?" She tips her head back to look up at me.
"Patience," I grate through my clenched teeth. The way she touched me a moment ago nearly annihilated by willpower, and gritting my teeth while virtually growling at her is all I can manage.
"I suck at patience."
Releasing her hands, I back her up to the table.
She grips its edge like she might fall down at my feet if not for the table buttressing her.
I might like it if she did fall to her knees, provided she takes my cock in her mouth while she's down there.
Taking hold of her hips, I boost her up onto the table with her legs hanging off the edge. She slaps her palms on my chest, then glides them up and down like she can't get enough of feeling my body. She unhooks one button on my shirt and slips her fingers beneath the fabric to trace lines on my chest. The softness of her fingers and the warmth of her skin feel so bloody good.
With a hissed intake of breath, I haul her into me, forcing her thighs apart until I'm wedged between them. Then I grind my hard-on into her groin. "When ye lay yer wee hands on me, I cannae think."
"Stop trying to."
I nuzzle her cheek.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders.
And I shove the dishes out of the way. They clatter to the floor while silverware clinks and wine splashes out of the glasses as they topple. Donnae care about that or anything except the feel of Erica's body wrapped around mine and the scent of her desire wafting over me while I lavish her throat with wet kisses.
"You're breaking the dishes," Erica says.
"Buy 'em all new ones." I lay her across the table and hike up her blouse, revealing her breasts caged inside the cups of her lacy bra, and roughly fondle them. "Most expensive china on the market, I swear."
I thrust one hand inside her bra and tug it down. One breast springs free, landing right in my palm. I curl my tongue around her nipple, and she arches into my mouth as if she's begging for more. I need to give her what she wants, give her everything. Sealing my mouth over her nipple, I scrape my teeth over the peak and suckle so hard that a throaty moan spills out of her. Every noise she makes heightens my lust until the need is almost painful. I force myself to slow down, nipping at her skin, teasing her gently.
She cries out, bucking her hips.
I suck even harder, unable to hold back in the face of her passion.
Another cry explodes out of Erica. She clenches my shirt in her fists and yanks it up, but my arms block her from tearing it off.
I need to be naked with herright now. But I have to stop this before I take her in the least romantic way possible. Since I don't want romance, I shouldn't care about that.
But I do care. Bloody hell.
I jerk my head up. Gazing down at Erica, with her pink cheeks and her heaving tits, I feel like a bastard for doing this to her in the kitchen, on the table that had plates and silverware on it a moment ago.
"What's wrong?" she asks while struggling to push up onto her elbows.
"Cannae do it." I drop down onto the chair. "Not like this."
She pulls her blouse down to cover herself and levers up into a sitting position. "You can't do this to me again. Get me wound up and push me away."
"Not pushing you away." No, I'd slumped onto my chair instead of shoving her away. Is that better or worse? I scrub my face with both hands and sigh. "I don't want our first time together to be like this. A quick shag on the kitchen table."
