And I’m going to make sure he feels it in every goddamn nerve ending he has.
He’s panting now, trying to keep quiet even though we both know there’s no one on the other side of the wall. Doesn’t stop him from biting down on his knuckles when I hum around him.
I ease off with a soft pop and drag my mouth back up his body, nipping at his skin as I go.
“Shit…” he groans, breath still shaky.
I grin into the curve of his shoulder. “Just wanted to see if I could make you forget your own name.”
“Mission accomplished,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “Holy hell.”
I prop myself up on one elbow beside him, smirking. “That’s not my name, Captain.”
He rolls his eyes, cheeks flushed, and lips parted. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
“And yet, you just said you love me.”
He narrows his eyes. “Mistake.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Say it again, and I’ll keep going.”
He tilts his head slightly. “Keep teasing me like this, andI’lltake over.”
That makes my whole body zing. I lean in until our noses almost brush. “Promises, promises.”
His gaze dips to my mouth, then slides back up. “You sure you’d want that?”
“You have no idea,” I murmur. “Might be fun letting you lose your mind on top of me for once.”
Todd’s breath catches, his pupils dilating just enough to give him away.
And Iknowthat look.
“You’re curious.” I grin. “Admit it.”
He doesn’t deny it. Just reaches up and hooks a finger into the collar of my shirt, tugging me down until our foreheads press together.
“Curious enough to try it,” he whispers, “once my legs work again.”
I laugh, full and unfiltered, and press a kiss to his lips—slow and warm, with just a hint of tongue.
“Deal,” I murmur against his mouth. “But I still get to call you Good Boy.”
He shivers and then sighs dramatically. “You would.”
“You love it.”
He hums and deepens the kiss momentarily and then pulls back and says, “You have too many clothes on, take them off.”
I push myself up and hold eye contact as I lift my shirt up, flexing as I pull it over my head and drop it to the floor. Then my fingers go to my jeans. I slowly pop the button and drag the zipper down. He breaks eye contact to watch me shove my jeans and boxer briefs down my thighs.
His gaze drags slowly back up, lingering on every inch of newly bare skin like he’s seeing me for the first time.
Then he sits up and reaches out with one hand—palm flatagainst my abdomen, warm and steady. He doesn’t speak right away. Just traces the line of my ribs and abs with his thumb, like he’s memorizing me by touch alone.
“You’re perfect,” he says quietly.
I don’t laugh it off this time.
