I take his hand, and he helps me out. The moment the door shuts behind us, he leans in, his mouth crashing into mine with a kind of urgency that’s been simmering all night. I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into the kiss, letting it pull everything else away.
He steps forward, one hand sliding beneath my skirt, resting on my thigh. The warmth of his palm there makes my skin buzz.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to look at me,reallylook. Something intense flickers in his eyes before he dips down, brushing his lips along the curve of my jaw, then lower. His mouth finds that spot on my neck that makes my knees weak, just as his fingers begin tracing slow circles over my panties.
My breath hitches. I spread my legs slightly, silently begging for more, and press my hips forward into his hand.
“Fuck, Donovan… that feels so good,” I whisper, barely able to speak as sensation takes over.
Then, in one quick motion, his hand leaves me. He grips my thighs, lifts me like I weigh nothing, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me to the trunk of the car and sets me down gently, his eyes never leaving mine. I lean back on my elbows, heart racing, skin tingling. He crouches, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my lace panties, slowly sliding them down my legs. It’s reckless, being out here like this, but the way he touches me makes the rest of the world vanish. I’d let him ruin me right here, under the night sky, and beg for more.
A soft moan escapes me as he parts my thighs. His fingers trace the slick heat between my legs, slow and deliberate, until he finds the spot that makes me tremble. My spine arches as his touch grows more confident, more focused. The pleasure builds, slow and steady, curling up my spine like smoke.
Then his fingers slide lower, and he pushes one inside me with aching patience.
“God damn it, Stella,” he groans, voice low and reverent. “You’re so wet for me.”
He pulls out, then slides in again, this time with two fingers, moving deeper with a tenderness that knocks the breath out of me. He leans in, his tongue flicking softly against my clit, and my hips rise to meet him.
My fingers find the back of his head, holding him close, needing him closer. I feel everything all at once—his fingersinside me, his mouth working in slow rhythm, the way he moans softly every time I gasp his name.
“Donovan,” I cry out, the sound half a moan, half a plea. “Don’t stop, right there, please don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he murmurs into me. “I’ve got you. Let go for me.”
His fingers curl, hitting just the right spot, and I shatter. My climax rolls through me, sharp and consuming, my body trembling as he stays with me through it, mouth and hands moving in perfect sync until I can’t take anymore.
When he finally lifts his head, he’s smiling—soft, smug, and completely wrecked. My release is still on his lips. He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine, both of us breathless.
“You undo me,” he whispers, as if he can’t believe it’s real.
I kiss him, tasting myself on his mouth, breathing him in like I need him to live.
“Take me inside,” I whisper against his lips, my voice low and sure. “I’m not done with you.”
I hear the rumble of the trash truck outside just as I jolt awake. I try to sit up, but the weight and warmth of Donovan is wrapped around me, holding me in place. The scent of our bodies lingers in my sheets, reminding me of the perfect night we shared. I reach blindly for my phone on the nightstand.
“Shit. Shit. Donovan!” I shake his shoulder. “Hey, D, come on, we’ve gotta get up!”
It’s 7:25 a.m.
Class starts for Donovan in twenty minutes. My flight to Virginia leaves in an hour.
Panic kicks in as I push him off me and throw the covers back. I start scrambling around the room, grabbing clothes and shoving them haphazardly into my suitcase.
When I glance back, Donovan’s still in my bed, sitting against the headboard like he has all the time in the world. My maroon comforter is pooled at his waist, his hands casually laced behind his head.
He looks annoyingly perfect.
“What are you doing?” I shout, breathless. “You’re about to be late for work, and I cannot miss my plane!” I grab his pants from the floor and toss them at him.
Donovan grins like a man with no regrets. “Stella, how am I supposed to get out of your bed and get dressed when you’re running around with your perfect tits and delicious ass on display?”
He stands and walks over, his presence immediately stealing the air from the room. His mouth finds mine in a kiss that’s rough and deep, backing me into the bathroom door frame.
Heat flares between my legs. For a second, I want nothing more than to wrap myself around him again and feel him buried deep inside me. But I force myself to pull away.
“As much as I’d love round two, or rather, round four,” I murmur, kissing him hard once more. “I can’t miss my flight.”
