"Lose the shirt," I demand, needing to see him, to feel skin on skin. I want him exposed, want him vulnerable under my hands.
He complies, lifting his arms so I can pull it over his head. I stare at his chest, broad and muscled, dusted with dark hair that narrows to a trail disappearing into his jeans. My fingers trace the lines of his collarbone, down to his pecs, feeling his heartbeat kick hard beneath my palm.
"Your turn," he says, voice thick with restraint.
I cross my arms and pull my sweatshirt off in one fluid motion. He stares at my plain bra—nothing sexy, just cotton and necessity. For a heartbeat, shame prickles my skin, but the look in his eyes turns it molten. He doesn’t care. He wants me like this, messy and unguarded, and it makes me ache.
"Fuck," he breathes, hands sliding up my ribs to cup my breasts through the fabric. "You're gorgeous."
I arch into his touch, my nipples hardening against his palms. He squeezes gently, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks, and I can't help the small sound that escapes me.
His mouth finds my throat, hot and wet as he kisses down to my collarbone. I tilt my head back, giving him better access, losing myself in the sensation of his lips and hands on my skin. When he tugs the cups of my bra down, exposing my breasts to the cool air, I gasp.
"Is this okay?" he murmurs against my skin.
"Yes," I breathe, threading my fingers through his hair. "Don't stop."
He takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, and the pleasure shoots straight between my legs. I grind down against him, seeking friction, needing more. His hands slide to my ass, guiding my movements as I rock against the hard ridge in his jeans.
The friction is maddening, so close to what I need but not enough. I reach between us, fumbling with his belt, suddenly desperate to feel him. He helps me, deftly unfastening his jeans while I work on mine.
"I need you inside me," I pant against his mouth, shoving at my jeans. The denim catches on my hips as I struggle to undress without breaking contact.
Axel's hands close over mine, steadying me. "Slow down," he murmurs, his voice a rumble against my skin. "We've got time."
"I don't want slow," I tell him, frustration bleeding into my voice. My body is an electric current, overcharged and dangerous. "I need this now."
His eyes darken, but I catch it, that flicker of restraint, the careful way he's holding himself back. It sends a spike of something hot and desperate through me. I don't want his control. I want him undone.
I manage to kick off my jeans, left only in my simple cotton panties, and reach between us to stroke him through his boxers. His breath hisses between clenched teeth, hips jerking up involuntarily.
"Sadie," he warns, voice strained.
"Stop thinking," I whisper, slipping my hand beneath the waistband to wrap my fingers around his cock. He's thick and hard, skin velvet-soft over steel. The feeling of him pulsing in my palm makes my core clench with need.
Axel's head falls back, a groan tearing from his throat as I stroke him. The sound sends a rush of power through me. This is what I need, to feel him lose himself because of me. To know I can make someone as solid as Axel Slade come apart.
"Protection," he manages, his voice wrecked. "In my wallet."
I retrieve it with shaking hands, then shove his boxers down his thighs. He springs free, thick and flushed, and my mouth waters at the sight. I tear the condom open with my teeth and roll it down his length, enjoying his sharp intake of breath as I take my time.
His hands slide up my thighs to hook in my panties, but I'm too impatient. I push them aside, positioning myself over him, the head of his cock nudging at my entrance. I'm soaked, have been since his first touch, my body ready and aching.
"Wait," he says, hands gripping my hips to hold me steady. "Let me touch you first. Make sure you're ready."
"I am ready," I insist, grinding against him. "Feel me."
I guide his fingers between my legs, letting him feel how wet I am for him. His eyes go nearly black, but still I sense his restraint, the way he's holding back, measuring each touch, careful not to push too far.
It drives me crazy. I don't want careful. I don't want measured. I want to be consumed.
"Stop being so good," I breathe, sinking down onto him in one swift motion.
The stretch is exquisite, bordering on too much. I gasp, clutching his shoulders as my body adjusts to his size. Axel freezes beneath me, muscles rigid with the effort not to move.
"Jesus Christ," he groans, hands tightening on my hips. "You feel fucking incredible."
I rock experimentally, taking him deeper, and we both moan. The fullness is overwhelming, not just physically butemotionally. It's been so long since I've let anyone this close, since I've allowed myself to be this vulnerable.
