He steps closer, hands finding my hips. “Baby, that shirt is hiding everything I want to see.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible.”
His fingers coast up under the hem of my shirt. My pulse skitters, and his eyes remain on mine as his fingers inch up.
He dips his head, and his lips graze my ear. “Take it off, Romy.”
“You came this far. I’d hate to ruin your quest.”
He tugs the fabric upward. “You’re too kind to me. We’ll do it together. Arms up, baby.”
I raise my arms, letting him peel the shirt off me. He drops it onto the floor.
His gaze drags down me as though he’s memorizing every inch. “See, so damn sexy.” He slides his hand down the slope of my waist, dipping beneath the waistband of my pants.
“Are we having a sleepover?” My breathy voice gives me away.
“Hell yeah we are, but I forgot my pajamas, so I guess I have to sleep in the nude.”
“Too bad.” I give him a mock frown.
Then he kisses me. Hard and fast with a hunger I’m growing addicted to. Our banter dissolves, our mouths clash, his hands roam. My knees hit the mattress, but he holds me steady.
He pulls down my pants. “Commando? You forgot to mention that in your text.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay, we’re even.” He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pulling them down his body, and his dick springs free.
My hands grapple for the hem of his shirt, tearing it off his body.
“Can you be a good girl and keep quiet? You’ll wake the whole house.”
I swat his shoulder. “Good girl?”
He brings me flush to his body, and his hard length hits my stomach. “No?”
I shrug. “I don’t hate it.”
He laughs and nudges me onto the bed, climbing over me. He’s already lowering himself, placing kisses along my stomach. “Say you missed me.”
“I missed you.”
“Good girl.” He quirks an eyebrow with that half smile on his lips. He pauses at my stomach and kisses it again. “You’re showing.”
I nod.
“This makes you so damn sexy, you have no idea.” He presses his hands gently on my belly. “Mine,” he says. Not in the possessive way he does during sex, but more to himself as though he still can’t believe we’re his. He inches down, his shoulders nudging my thighs open. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I affirm, and he smiles right before his mouth slips between my legs.
His mouth is hot and soft, his tongue sliding up and down as his hands grip my hips, holding me still as though he’s not about to let me get away.
“Shit,” I whisper, my head falling to the pillow.
His groan vibrates along my skin, and his tongue circles my clit in measured strokes, as if he’s taking his time.
“Zander, oh my god—” My hands whip down to his head, fisting his strands, and he growls, dragging his tongue lower, plunging inside me.
