"Still good?" he murmurs against my mouth.
"So good," I breathe. "So fucking?—"
He cuts me off with another kiss, deeper this time. His tongue slides against mine, and I swear to GodI see stars. Every nerve ending is firing at once. He tastes like beer and sweet…Did he have candy earlier? Why is that hot?
I shift in his lap, and we both groan at the friction. I can feel him hard against me, and Jesus Christ, he's proportional everywhere. My dick is so interested it hurts.
"Sorry," he gasps. "Should I?—"
"Don't you dare move."
He laughs, breathless. "Bossy."
"You have no idea."
Brain, shut up. Stop thinking. Just feel.
But I can't stop cataloging everything. The way his hands span my entire waist. How he touches me like I'm special, but also like he wants to devour me. The little catches in his breathing when I rock against him just right.
"Fuck," he groans. "Doc, you're killing me."
"Good." I kiss down his jaw to his neck, find that spot where it meets his shoulder, and bite gently.
The sound he makes is obscene. His hands tighten on my waist, and suddenly I'm moving; he's standing, lifting me like I weigh nothing.
"Shit, sorry—" He starts to put me down, but I wrap my legs around him.
"Don't apologize, this is fucking hot."
He groans again, walking us backward until my back hits the wall. The position puts us at the perfect height, his mouth finding mine again. I'm completely suspended between him and the wall, held up by his stupid muscles.
Fuck fuck fuck?—
"Unless you've got a box," he pants between kisses, "I'm gonna have to keep picking you up."
"I'll build a fucking ladder," I gasp, then his mouth is on my throat, and thinking becomes impossible.
How is this my life? How is this massive, sweet, gorgeous man pressed against me like he'll die if he stops touching me?
We make out against the wall until my legs start to shake from being wrapped around him so tight. He carries me to the bed… Carries me, and sets me down gently, crawling over me and?—
"Wait," I breathe, putting a hand on his chest. "I'm not... I can't do more than this tonight."
He immediately backs off, sitting up. "Of course. Shit, I'm sorry if?—"
"You didn't do anything wrong." I sit up too, trying to catch my breath. "I just... need to go slow."
"Whatever you need," he says immediately. "I'm just happy to be here."
My chest does that complicated thing again. The whoop like I've missed a step and am about to fall. He means it. He'd be perfectly happy just kissing me fully clothed for hours.
"You should probably go," I say regretfully. "Before I change my mind about the slow thing."
He stands, adjusting himself in his jeans with a wince that makes me equal parts smug and horny.
"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asks.
"Yeah. Yes. Obviously."
