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“Whichever is closer,” she whispers breathlessly.
Fuck, yes.
Quickly, I take her hand, pulling her behind me as we exit the restaurant.
The ten-minute car ride feels like an eternity. I do my best to keep my eyes on the road and my hands on the wheel while she sits beside me with her head on my shoulder…and her slender fingers caressing my thigh.
I swallow hard. I need this. I need her. I hate to admit how much.
After whipping into my reserved parking space under the overhang in front of my condo, I lead Kiera to the elevator. The minute the doors close, I pin her against the wall and devour her sweet mouth. I let my hands roam her curves, determined to make my fingers memorize each dip and flare.
It’s not enough.
With a groan, I grip her ass and lift her off the floor and against my body. She clutches my shoulders and wraps her legs around my waist, locking her ankles behind me. While she rakes her fingers through my hair, I press my straining erection against her hot pussy. Our needy moans merge, resounding over the whine of the elevator.
Why can’t this damn thing go any faster? I don’t just want her in my bed so I can have her bare and begging, Ineedher.
Finally, the elevator doors open to my floor.
Still carrying her, I hurry down the hallway. When she kisses her way up my neck, I sincerely wonder if we’re going to make it to my bedroom.
I growl out a curse, fighting for control, as I pause in front of my unit and fumble to find the key. As soon as I manage to unlock the door, I push inside and kick it closed, then drop my keys on the nearby table.
“Lose your shoes,” I demand as I kick my own off.
A pair of thuds tells me she complies. Then together, we make our way to the bedroom. I ease Kiera onto the bed, and I look down at her. She meets my stare, cheeks flushed, her eyes shimmering with a reverence that knocks my world off its axis. No woman has ever looked at me the way she is—not even the woman I was fifteen minutes from marrying. Her expression says I hung the moon and stars. Like what’s inside my heart is more important than whatever I can buy her. Like I’m her everything.
For a moment, I can’t breathe.
I realize Kiera has never asked me for anything other than my time. Sure, she made that off-handed comment about wanting designer shoes. I braced for her to wheedle and whine at me until I bought them for her, but she didn’t. Not a peep. Also unlike Amber, she genuinely listens to the things I say. She sees me as a person with feelings. She acts as if I’m someone capable of giving love and being loved, not a fucking credit card with connections and a talented cock.
Since this will be the last time I’ll have her naked for me, I silently vow to imprint myself so deeply inside her, mark her so indelibly that when Kiera thinks of me, she’ll remember every touch, every kiss, every thrust, and every moment we shared all the way to our last quaking orgasm until the end of time.
I drop to my knees in front of her, then slide her up the mattress while I wedge myself between her legs. Slowly, I take her mouth, our lips tangling as I press her closer. Like last time we shared hours and bodies, it’s not enough. I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough. How the hell will I ever let her go?
That’s not your problem right now. Focus on the moment.
She slides her soft fingertips down my back as I deepen our kiss, curling my tongue around hers and claiming more of her mouth. When her seeking hands wander beneath my shirt, I ease back just enough to yank my shirt over my head and toss it aside. She stares in awe at me, like I’m a fucking god.
No. She’s looking at you like you’re hot dick. You don’t mean anything to her.
I don’t; I know it, but that expression…I’d swear I mean everything to her.
For once, I don’t fight it. I give in and cup her cheek, bringing her in for a long kiss. With my free hand, I lift the hem of her shirt until I have to give up the sweetness of her mouth to peel off the garment and drop it to the floor. Her breasts, which always have me drooling, are covered by a tan bra.
She blinks up at me, looking pristine in the sunlight. “I want you.”
“You have me.”
“I want more of you.” She curls her fingers into my belt loops and pulls me closer to her.
I’m not sure what she has in mind, but so far it’s a “hell, yes” from me. Then she unbuttons my pants and tugs down my zipper. With shaking hands, she shoves the rest of my clothes down to my ankles, then drops her breathless gaze to my cock.
I hook a finger under her chin until she meets my stare. “Sweetheart?”
What is she up to?
For a moment, uncertainty crosses her face. Worry. No, self-doubt. Then she blinks it away. “I want to taste you the way you tasted me.”
