I fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest. It was dark last night. I was shielded by shadow.
There are no shadows to hide behind now.
Does he like them? Are they too small? Too big? Asymmetric? Average in a way that isn’t enough?
I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and it’s driving me crazy.
“I—” I start, ready to deflect with a joke.
“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he says, voice gone wrecked.
The words knock the breath out of me.
Leaning down, he closes his mouth over one breast, suckling through the bra, tugging my nipple into the heat of his mouth.
I arch against him as a moan of pleasure spills out of me, unfiltered and too loud in the small kitchen. I wind my fingers in his hair and hold on, pressing him closer, silently begging him not to stop.
His hands slide around my back, fumbling briefly with the clasp, then finding it. He unhooks it in a practiced twist, and the bra loosens. He pulls back just long enough to yank the offending fabric out of the way and toss it aside.
Cool air hits my bare skin for a beat before his mouth returns, this time with nothing between us.
One of my hands stays tangled in his hair while the other roams his shoulders, tracing the long lines and thick muscles. He shouldn’t be making me feel this safe while also making me feel like I’m about to come apart.
We shouldn’t be doing this at all.
I don’t want to stop.
Nothing has ever felt so good.
His hands slide down my sides again, leaving a trail of warmth and electricity. When he reaches the waistband of my leggings, he hooks his thumbs there and looks up at me.
I should stop this. I should stop him. At the very least, I should tell him—
Tell him what? That I’ve never done this all the way? That the only experience I have is clumsy teenage groping and the occasional ill-advised makeout session that never went past second base?
No.
When he looks at me with those intense eyes, my mouth goes dry. All I can see is my own lust and determination reflected back at me.
I give a small nod.
The tacit agreement hums between us like a live wire.
With one hand at the small of my back, he pulls me up just enough to slide the leggings over my ass, taking my panties with them. The fabric drags against my skin, a slow reveal, and then cool air licks at my bare thighs.
He yanks them down and off, over my feet, and sets them aside with more care than I deserve, considering the state of my self-control.
Only then does he let his gaze drop to my core.
“Liar,” he murmurs, smirking as he takes in the evidence that I am not, in fact, a yeti.
Heat flares in my cheeks. “I could’ve grown it back since yesterday,” I say weakly.
He huffs out a rough little laugh and steps closer again, hands sliding up the outsides of my thighs before running over my bare pussy lips, spreading them with his index and ring finger. The touch is gentle and filthy at once, exposing me completely.
I am practically shaking with need as his middle finger slides through my slit, feeling the obvious evidence of just how incredibly turned on he’s made me, and circles my clit.
A jolt of pure pleasure shoots from my core up my spine, making my vision blur for a second.
