He sucked in a deep breath. “Then I’d love to get horizontal with you.”
We walked, or, rather, Kit limped and I walked arm in arm to his beautiful, lofty bedroom. We undressed and he let me help him out of his boots with only a little grumbling. Down to our underwear, we climbed onto the bed, and met on our sides in the middle, as though even that brief separation was too much to bear.
The passionate kisses in the kitchen paled in comparison to our bedroom, nearly-naked kisses. Kit kissed me like he wanted for nothing else, just the press of our lips and bodies.
He tried to roll on top of me but went pale and flopped back.
“Fuck,” he cursed, reaching for his knee.
Pressing on his chest, I pushed him onto his back and straddled him.
“Better?”
He sucked in a few deep breaths and nodded. “I can’t get over how beautiful you are.”
“And I can’t get over how handsome you are.”
Leaning forward, I resumed kissing him, now with the added benefit of having our parts lined up. Careful of the pressure on his lower body, I rolled my hips, pressing our hard-ons together through the thin material.
Pushing off on his good knee, he thrust up as I thrust down, and the friction was so fucking perfect and delicious.
He cupped my ass, squeezing over the silky material. “As much as I like your pretty underwear,” he whispered, “I’d love to rip it off of you.”
“Go ahead, cowboy,” I rasped, turned on by the authority in his tone.
His rough fingertips found the delicate seams on one side. Fisting the slippery fabric with both hands, he rent the material like it was tissue paper. After repeating the move on the other side, he whipped the destroyed lingerie from my body. The sticky slide of my exposed cock against his soft cotton boxers was loud in the quiet room, and just as profane.
Even though I was still straddling him, technically in the superior position, his hands—his goddamn talented hands—went to my naked hips, directing my every move. I loved every second of it. His hungry kisses started with my jawline, then traveled down my neck, ravaging me as the sensations dribbled down into my chest and out to my limbs. My fingers and toes were tingling as his lips met the divot at the base of my neck.
He then kissed a line down my chest, not fussed by the bit of chest hair that’d grown back in. When his mouth landed on my nipple, he sucked gently while pumping his hips, more of that sticky, delicious slide against his monstrous, covered cock. I nearly gave into the orgasm that wanted out, but I needed more. So much more.
“You’re so sensitive,” he whispered to my collarbone. “So responsive.”
“And you know what the hell you’re doing, Kit. Are you sure you haven’t fucked a man before?”
He went bright red, sputtering at the accusation. “No.”
I pressed my finger to his lips. “I was teasing you, cowboy. I know. What I mean to say is that here you are with one and a half-busted knees, and you’re more sensual than anyone I’ve ever been with.”
“Ain’t never kissed like this before in my life,” he confessed, his eyes a little shiny. “I didn’t know what I was missing.”
I kissed his precious eyelids. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll show you the world.”
His eyes crinkled with a smile wider than any I’d ever seen on his face. “Jesus, Sky. I want inside you,” he said, then his eyes widened. “Shit. I am probably way too ahead of myself.”
I put my hand over his mouth. “I’d love that.”
His chest rose and fell. “Yeah?” he asked, breathless against my palm.
I removed my hand from his mouth and slid my fingers into his hair. “Oh, hell yeah.”
His one arm shot out, and as he opened the drawer on his bedside table, I rolled my hips, giving him a little extra friction before leaning over and grabbing the condom and lube from their neatly organized bins. I laughed.
“What?” he asked, looking nervous.
“You’re so organized.”
“I have so much goin’ on that I have to organize everything or I get too anxious,” he admitted.
