My mouth falls open, and she grins, smug and beautiful.
God help me. I’ve never loved her more.
“You little minx,” I murmur, grinning as I let my hands find her sides, my thumbs skimming over her ribs, and then I tickle her. I need to hear her laugh. I need that sound—something untainted, something light, something that reminds me of who we used to be before the world took us apart.
She squeals, squirming, her laughter bubbling up and spilling into the air between us. The sound is pure sunlight in a world I thought had gone dark. She wriggles against me, her giggles shaking her whole body, and holy fuck, the way her tits bounce with the motion is enough to make my cock twitch in response.
“Ace, stop!” she gasps between breaths, her hands clutching at mine to fend me off, so I halt my assault. “Normally, people aren’t allowed to touch.”
My breath is still uneven as I answer, “People aren’t allowed to touch me either.”
She laughs at that, a little breathless. “And what about me? Am I allowed?”
The moment shifts.
Her eyes flicker, catching the hesitation I can never seem to hide. I swallow hard, every instinct screaming at me to pull back, to put distance between us before I get swallowed whole.
But I don’t.
“Iwantto.”God, I want to.
Her lips part like she wasn’t expecting that.
“I want you to touch me everywhere, as long as you want that,” she whispers in return.
Something in me breaks. I feel it snap, right along the fault lines where she left a scar, and fuck, it’s the best kind of pain. The kind that reminds me I’m still alive.
I don’t waste a second, closing the distance like I can’t help myself anymore, like there’s no stopping this, no stopping us. I pull her mouth to mine. She kisses me like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she doesn’t hold on tight, and I kiss her back like I’m drowning, and she’s the only thing keeping me afloat.
It’s messy, desperate, a clash of mouths and hands and breath.
My hands move without thought, sliding over her hips, her waist, up to the swell of her breasts. Tentatively and hesitantly, I let my fingers explore her until she whimpers into my mouth, and I fucking lose it.
I grip her tighter. Pull her closer. My lips trail down her throat, her collarbone, and lower. The sounds she makes go straight to my fucking cock, and I’m losing my grip on what’s too much, what’s too fast.
Her fingers twitch on my shoulders, and I know she wants to bury them in my hair the way she used to.
“You can touch my head,” I murmur against her skin, my lips brushing the words over her sternum.
She hesitates for a second, then concedes, letting her fingers slide softly through my strands. Her grip tightens a little as I look up at her.
“Good?” I don’t even recognize my own voice. It’s too raw, too hoarse.
Fuck, I haven’t done this in years. Sinceher.
“Amazing.” She reaches down to tug at my shirt. “Can we… take this off?”
I don’t move at first. Not because I don’t want to, but because I need a second. I need to ground myself.
I’m okay.This feels good.
I reach behind my neck and tug the fabric over my head, tossing it aside. Her eyes rake over my chest, and the way she looks at me like I’m something worth worshiping makes my pulse pound in my ears.
“Tell me to stop if this gets too much, okay?” She bites her lip as she places her palms flat on my shoulders again.
Her hands shake a little, but fuck, so do mine.
I want this.
