But the intimacy had been building for hours, and my desire was a slow thrum just under my skin just from talking to him and getting to know him more deeply.
Because it wasn’t one of those cases where you were irrationally attracted to someone, but the more you got to know them, the more they gave you the ick.
No, the more I learned about Milo, the more I liked him. Which only made the desire feel like something earned rather than random.
So I wasn’t surprised that the press of his lips to mine made that thrum become a throb that had me sinking down on his lap.
His lips tasted like wine.
His hands were warm as they glided up and down the sides of my thighs.
Heat sparked, caught, blazed, spread.
My hips sank down, and I could feel the proof of his own need against me.
I moaned against his lips, and his tongue slid inside to tease over mine.
His hands slid to my hips. The steady restraint he’d been clinging to cracked with a sharp inhale, his hands tightening on my hips with unapologetic pressure.
A small sound slipped from my throat as the kiss deepened, his mouth slanting harder against mine.
Heat flashed between us as his grip guided me closer, dragging me tightly against him.
My fingers twisted in his shirt.
His hands moved upward, spanning the curve of my lower back before tracing the line of the robe belt toward the front.
I could feel it—the shift from controlled to hungry.
The kiss grew hotter, rougher, our mouths moving with the kind of breathless urgency that had my pulse racing and my thoughts scattered.
His teeth grazed my lower lip, dragging a needy gasp out of me.
He swallowed the sound.
Then his hands slipped to the knot of the belt, working it loose.
Anticipation shivered down my spine as he grabbed the sides of the robe and spread them open, exposing me completely.
Milo’s lips tore from mine, his heated gaze dropping helplessly from my face, desperate to see me.
A deep rumble rolled through him. My thighs tightened on the sides of his legs at the neediness of that sound. My very blood was singing the same tune.
A slow heat unfurled low in my stomach as I watched Milo take me in—the parted lips, the fast, shallow breaths, the tight muscle dancing in his jaw.
I’d been seen before, desired before, but had never felt quite sowantedas I did in that moment.
Milo leaned forward, his lips pressing into the curve where my neck met my shoulder.
The shock of sensation had warmth pooling at the slow drag of his lips over my skin.
His hands rose, gliding up my ribs, trailing warmth wherever they went until his palms cupped my breasts.
My head fell back with a moan.
His hands tightened, released. Then his forefingers and thumbs were squeezing, rolling.
The pressure built, making my hips finally drop all the way down, the friction of his hardness against me feeling intoxicatingly cruel.
