My nipples tighten, and my panties are instantly wet.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
I shake my head, then go up on tiptoe to kiss him, holding his face in my hands. “I like it,” I whisper.
“Fuck, Amanda, I can’t resist you.”
“Same.”
I barely register that I’m pushing his jacket off his shoulders until it hits the floor. My hands slide up under his T-shirt without conscious thought. He cradles my ass in his large hands and holds me tighter against his fabulous hard-on until I can’t help myself as I hook oneleg around his hip and let him pull me up so I can wrap both legs around him.
He kisses me hard, deep, his tongue hot and demanding, while he turns us to settle me on the desk.
We’re in the kitchen.
We shouldnotdo this in my grandmother’s kitchen.
But when he palms my breasts and presses his thumbs to my aching nipples, there’s zero chance we’renotdoing this in my grandmother’s kitchen.
He makes me feel so good.
Not just my body.
My heart. My mind. My soul.
He makes my entire being float. Makes me believe there’s nothing I can’t do. That everything I am is perfect, just as I am.
“I shouldn’t—” he starts, pulling out of the kiss, his thumbs still working magic on my nipples.
“You absolutely should,” I gasp in response.
“Just—so—perfect.” He nibbles my neck.
I pant and try to tug him closer, but he’s bent over the desk, over me, and I can’t get him as close as I want him.
“I want you,” I whimper. “I can’t get enough of you.”
The door rattles across the kitchen. “Amanda?” my mom calls.
“Dammit,” I gasp.
“Fuck,” he agrees.
He lifts his head and drops his forehead to mine. “We’re going to have to stop.”
I don’t know if he means stopnow, or stop altogether.
Either way, I don’t like it.
“Amanda?” Mom calls again.
“Come in,” I yell, aware that she can’t.
Can she?
Does she have a key?
Dane yanks upright and adjusts his cock, giving me aplease don’t invite your mother in while I can’t control my dicklook that shouldn’t make me smile, but does.
