“Then take me. Have me. I’m all yours, Landon.”
He runs his hands through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
He shakes his head. “There are things you don’t know.”
“About what?” I crawl to the edge of the bed, my hands hovering over his bare back. I’m too chicken to touch him, though, and before I know it, he’s pushing off the bed and pacing around the room. I watch him, confused, concerned, captivated, until he collapses on the couch against the far wall. “Landon?”
“It’s complicated,” he says.
“Then un-complicate it for me.”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and approach him with soft, careful steps, the way I would a startled animal. He watches me with rapt attention, his eyes tracking my every movement with a dark intensity. It gives me the confidence to keep moving.
I pause in front of him, our legs inches apart, and we study each other. Slowly, carefully, I start to lift the bottom of my tank top, all the while holding my breath. His eyes follow the motion before snapping back to mine, even darker than before. I continue to pull up my shirt, revealing my belly button, my stomach, my ribs. I pause before revealing my chest, waiting for him to tell me to stop.
He doesn’t. He’s impossibly still, his eyes fixated on me, and the ache inside me intensifies. In one swift movement, I pull the tank top over my head, tossing it on the floor beside me. His eyes drop from my face, roaming over my naked chest, and the heat in them makes my insides clench. In another quick motion, I slip down my shorts and kick them to the side, leaving me standing in front of him in nothing but my underwear.
This feeling is entirely new to me, this desperate desire. This terrified wanting. This craving to not only be touched but to put my hands and mouth and skin all over his. It was never like this with my ex…or with any guy, ever.
I take another step closer until I’m standing between his legs. He watches me with heated eyes but makes no move to touch me, clearly still warring with himself in his head. I wish he’d stop, relax, let go, accept. I take matters into my own hands, something I never do. Something I’d never dreamed of doing.
Until now. Until Landon.
Using the back of the couch as leverage, I straddle him, my body hovering over his. I lower my weight, that exquisite hardness beneath his sweatpants pressing between my legs, making my eyelids flutter. He makes a noise deep in his throat, a noise that makes my stomach flip and a wave of heat wash over my entire body, and I press my lips to his in a rough, open-mouthed kiss.
It’s like he awakens from a trance. At once, his body jerks, and his mouth crushes to mine. One of his arms wraps around me, binding me to him, and a strong hand slides up my naked back, pulling my chest flush with his. The other dives into my hair, fisting it at the root as his tongue slips expertly over mine, clashing, dancing, dueling.
We establish a rhythm to our kisses, and my hips begin to roll in time, grinding, moving, chasing any relief his body can provide to this overwhelming ache in my core. He lets out a low, hungry growl from the back of his throat, and I press closer, kiss harder, crave deeper. His hands trace down my sides, over my ribs, hips, and thighs, almost worshipful, like he’s committing my curves to memory.
“Keep moving, baby,” he murmurs. “Keep moving just like that.” His hands grip my hips, aiding my movements, and he nips at my neck, my jaw, my ear. “You’re doing so good.”
“Landon,” I plead, but I don’t know what I’m asking for, pleasure, ecstasy, or relief. I want to feel him,allof him, and he takes my mouth again in a rough, possessive kiss that makes my head spin.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against my lips.
Good girl.
Something about those words makes my stomach flip.
He dips his head forward, taking one of my nipples in his mouth with a roughness and intensity that should hurt. “Fuck,” I breathe, arching my back, because it doesn’t. His teeth, his lips, and his tongue feel incredible.
“Keep moving, baby. Don’t stop.”
I don’t. I keep rolling my hips as the addictive pressure builds into something more. Something that has me making sounds I didn’t know I was capable of. Something that has my pulse racing, my insides shaking, my body chasing, rising, climbing, until it finally reaches the peak. Stars spark across my vision as waves of ecstasy crash over me, one after the next, relentless in their pleasure.
When it’s over, my shaking body collapses against his, taking comfort in the heat of his skin and the strength of his body and the safety of…him. Landon. Breathing heavily, I bury my face in the warm crook of his neck while his hands stroke lightly down my back, waiting for my heartbeat to calm.
After a few moments, his hand twines in my hair, tilting my head back so my face looks up into his. Without warning, he brings his mouth down, brushing his lips over mine in a tender, loving kiss.
“You’re incredible. That was the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says in that deep, husky voice.
Before I can even respond, he scoops me up and carries me over to the bed, setting me down against the mattress with extreme gentleness. I gaze up at him from my euphoric stupor, eyes roaming over his masculine beauty, his sheer maleness, all sorts of dangerous thoughts rolling through my head. And when he brings his body down over mine, presses his mouth to my neck, and whispers, “You’re perfect, Violet,” I become lost in his words and his scent and his touch. I become lost in him.
I’m a complete goner.
Our kissing intensifies, and I’m reaching for the band of his sweatpants, desperate to tug them down, desperate to feel every inch of him, when his phone on the nightstand starts vibrating with a call. I glance toward the noise and do a double take at the name glowing on the screen.
