Her lips.
Her tongue.
The little fucking sound she makes when I bite her bottom lip gently.
My hand slides under her fucking thermal shirt. Under my fucking hoodie that she’s been wearing like a second skin. Her skin is warm and soft and I want to touch every fucking inch of her.
“Tell me what you need,” I murmur against her throat.
“You.” Her fingers tangle in my hair. “Just you.”
26
Sorrel
His breath scorches my throat, rough and possessive, but then his mouth crashes back onto mine. This isn’t a kiss... it’sownership.
And I eat it up.
Take me.
Claim me.
His tongue sweeps past my lips, demanding, tasting me like I’m water and he’s been dying of thirst for years. I whimper into him, arching as his teeth drag over my bottom lip, and he bites just hard enough to make my hips jerk. The scrape of his stubble burns my skin, rough and raw against the softness of my jaw. I can smell him now... woodsmoke and sweat and that dark, expensive cologne clinging to his sweater...
I’m trembling, aching. I can’t help myself. My hands slide into the waistband of his borrowed sweatpants, where I rolled and folded the fabric so it could cling to my hips. My fingers dive lower, past the thin barrier of my cotton panties.
Fuck.
I’m already soaked. I circle my clit, slow at first, then faster, the heel of my palm grinding against myself as heat spirals upmy spine. A moan rips out of me, ragged and loud against his mouth.
“Don’t.”
Gregory breaks the kiss, his voice a guttural command. His eyes are pure midnight: dark blue and dilated, predatory.
He catches my wrist, yanking my hand away out of my underwear. “I saidstop.”
His palm replaces mine, but it’soverthe sweatpants, right where I’m throbbing. The fabric is thick, but his pressure is brutal and perfect.
He rubs slow, deliberate circles, and keeps his gaze locked on mine as I gasp.
“You don’t touch yourself unless I say so,” he growls. “This is mine.”
God.
The friction is electric. Every stroke causes sparks to erupt across my vision. My thighs clamp around his hand, greedy, chasing the rhythm. He pins me against the floor, leaning in to lick the sweat from my collarbone.
“Feel that?” His thumb presses harder, dragging the damp fabric against my clit. “You’redrippingfor me.”
I’m unraveling. The heat’s rising in my core. Rising. Rising.
Oh.
Fuck--
Right there--
Don’t stop--
