I read him so easily I knew what he wanted but didn’t comply.
As if he wasn’t upset by the refusal to remove my beanie in the least, he swooped in for a kiss, one that sent me shivering, tingling in fun places, and lifted me up to step inside.
Closing the door behind him, he tried to kiss and walk his way towards what I assumed was the couch.
He got a few steps towards the direction of the living room and paused as my hands slid up his neck, slipping into his hair to gently tug.
A growl of a groan left him. I’d swear his eyes were glowing as he pulled back. Were his canines always so prominent? Maybe it was the light playing tricks but I’d swear they were looking sorta sharp.
“Pru.” Brushing a hand along my cheek, he purred my name. Literally, the male purred my freaking name. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. Gooseflesh erupted across my arms, up the back of my neck. That feeling spread until it felt like every single bit of my body felt like it was buzzing with that electric zip and my skin felt hypersensitive to the touch.
My legs had wrapped around his waist and a very prominent thickness was digging into the v between.
Did I want this? Was I actually considering stopping? I wanted this more than I wanted to admit.
Cupping the back of my head, Elm slipped several fingers beneath my wig-beanie, until he was touching the back of my head.
His other hand cupped my ass to yank me up a little higher on him.
“I’m still wearing boots, and pants,” I blurted.
About to lean in and plant another panty melting kiss on me, Elm paused, blinked, and then a rumble to beat all the others curled up his throat.
Snatching me close to him for a rib squishing squeeze, Elm quickly set me on my feet, where he began tugging my jacket off of me with efficient, if impatient, haste.
“Elm be careful,” I thought I heard him mutter as he finished with my jacket and began toeing off his boots.
A part of me was screeching at me, what the hell are you doing? The other half ignored it in favor of getting my damn pants off because we aresodoing this!
I could worry about the repercussions of what I was doing later, much later.
The boy who’d left me that I’d quietly loved for forever and a day was kissing me like he loved me back, eagerly helping me right out of my clothes.
I was down to my panties, socks, and T-shirt when Elm took notice.
A sexy growl filled the air as I turned and bent to set my things down behind me.
He’d been fighting to wriggle out of his flannel, arms trapped trying to rush the process, chest puffed out, the t-shirt beneath perfectly outlining a thick slab of abs I wouldn’t mind running my hands all over.
Doing just that, sliding my hands up over his shirt, dragging the material upwards with the action, he sucked in a sharp breath as my fingers delved beneath the material.
We didn’t speak. Words weren’t needed.
Elm was a hairy SOB, no surprise there. All that chest hair looked more like fur to me. It was soft, warm with his body heat. My lips tipped up as I raked my nails down his chest and he groaned. He pressed closer into my hands, and a snarl rent the air.
Giving up struggling with his forearms stuck, Elm jerked his arms forward, tearing the material, leaving two tattered flannel halves flapping at his sides, split right down the back, and nabbed me up.
His lips found mine, nipping, kissing, tongue delving inside my mouth to tangle with mine. It was hot, wild. Things were moving fast. His hands were everywhere, sliding up the back of my shirt, the other slipping beneath the hem of mypanties to cup a bare cheek. Pressing me tightly to him, urging me to wrap my legs around him to grind himself firmly against me, Elm took charge.
Needy moans escaping me, I clung to him, desperate for more.
I wanted him so desperately it hurt. Never had I ever felt this frantic, wild need.
The hand cupping my ass moved, shifting to press over my panty covered slit.
I was wet, needy. I may not have actually done the deed with another human being but I had a vibrator, I dated and touched a few bases— perhaps not with this much enthusiasm— I didn’t live under a rock.
My hips rolled, eagerly meeting Elm’s fingers as they teased along my clit, rubbed along my slit.
