My fingers slid into his hair and his reaction to my tightening grip was immediate. His body pressed closer, his arousal blatantly obvious. More sparks shot through me, my brain turning to mush and certain other parts of me taking the wheel.
His free hand skimmed along my side, sending goosebumps racing across my skin. The heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric of my dress, comforting and disorienting all at once. My head kept trying to catch up, to remind me this was a terrible idea, but every attempt it made was obliterated by Nate’s lips.
They trailed from my mouth to the corner of my jaw. My head tipped back instinctively, giving him access I didn’t remember wanting to grant, and the sensation of his breath ghosting along my throat made my entire body arch toward him.
“Nate.” His name slipped out sounding more like surrender than protest.
He stilled for a fraction of a second, his hand squeezing my waist. For a moment, I thought he might pull back. That maybe he’d remembered how dangerous this was and had realized that we should put a stop to it.
Instead, his mouth dragged lower. The nip of his teeth against my skin and the caresses of his tongue were deliberateand devastating. My fingers clenched in his hair and he groaned, nipping just a little harder before kissing away the sting.
Everything blurred into sensation after that. His hands moved with growing urgency and mine were unsteady as they roamed across his back and shoulders, mapping the solid strength beneath his shirt. Every shift of his weight and every brush of his mouth against my skin pulled another thread loose inside me until I wasn’t sure there was anything left holding me together.
After so many years, my body was starved for this kind of touch, but the fact that it was Nate took it to a whole other level. The clean, spicy scent of him and the weight of his body on mine had had my panties soaked in an instant, the rest of it just adding to the force of the need building deep within.
I moaned when his hand slid along my thigh, but he hesitated for half a heartbeat. Like he was silently debating asking permission. The moment I shifted closer, the hesitation vanished. Heat coiled low in my stomach and another soft, helpless sound escaped me before I could stop it.
The sound seemed to undo him completely. Nate’s breathing got ragged, his forehead dropping briefly against my shoulder like he was trying to steady himself and failing spectacularly. The intimacy of it, the loss of control, and the way he wasn’t the polished, composed, or careful Nate Westwood anymore, made my heart soar.
I wasn’t sure when that stupid organ had gotten involved, but it was too late to retreat or to pretend this was impulsive, meaningless, or something we could neatly file away later as a mistake.
Because it didn’tfeellike a mistake. It felt like gravity andno onecould fight that. My hands slid to his face and I guided him back to me, kissing him hard and murmuring quietly in between.
“It’s okay, Nate. I want this. I want you.”
He let out a low groan. Those blue eyes locked on mine for just a second before he nodded and twined his fingers into my hair. His lips crashed into mine with renewed hunger. He settled his weight more fully on top of me, his hips fitting between mine in a way that made me feel every inch of him against my very overheated core.
As soon as it happened, instinct took over from logic. Nate wanted me just as much as I wanted him and I arched into him, desperately needing friction. My heart was racing, the anticipation coiling inside growing painfully tight, and somehow, he seemed to know it.
Adjusting the position of his body, he slid a hand up the inside of my thigh again with absolutely zero hesitation this time. His fingertips skimmed the front panel of my panties and I nearly screamed with relief, only managing to hold it back because his tongue stroked against mine at the exact same moment.
As he swept the fabric aside, his fingers hooked around it, his knuckles brushing against my slick folds. He muttered a curse into my mouth, but I didn’t let him speak, just kissing him harder instead.
I never thought I’d be grateful to Nathaniel Westwood for anything. Ever. But when he moved his hand to where I needed it most without making me wait another second, I could’ve kissed him.You know, if I wasn’t already doing it.
My muscles locked as his fingers slid through me, teasing my entrance for just a beat before he pushed one inside. He shifted on top of me again, giving himself space to bring his thumb to my clit.
My hips nearly flew off the couch when he touched it. The pleasure was so intense that I started whimpering. Nate groaned into our kisses, his own body tense in a way that told me he was very much on edge himself.
Without even thinking about it, I ran my hand to his fly and flicked open the button of his slacks, relieved he wasn’t wearing a belt for me to deal with right now. I felt his hand on my wrist, probably to stop me, but our kisses were too frenzied for either of us to formulate words.
I tugged at his zipper, not being graceful about it when I finally got to slide my hand into his pants. God, I’d been wanting to touch him for so long, but at the very least since I’d first seen the bulge under those sweats he’d been wearing when I’d moved in.
As my fingertips skated along the hot length of his shaft, his hips bucked and he sucked in a breath so sharp, it broke our kiss. “Kate, fuck.”
“Don’t tell me to stop.” I wasn’t sure if it was an instruction or a plea, but I rolled with it anyway. “I want this, Nate. So bad.”
His breathing shuddered and he nodded and kissed me again, punctuating each word with a press of his lips to mine, to my throat, and to my collarbone. “I don’t want you to stop, Kate. Please don’t fucking stop.”
I wrapped my fist around him in response, rolling my hips into his hand when he started moving again. This was vaguely reminiscent of fooling around back in high school, when no one really knew what they were doing and didn’t want to take it too far, except for the fact that Nate knew exactly what he was doing, and frankly, so did I.
The real similarity was that we wouldn’t let it go too far.Well, not more than we already have.
Pleasure streaked through me with every pass of his finger around my clit and I stroked him faster, sliding the pad of my thumb over his tip and moaning when it came away damp. In a pile of tangled limbs on the couch, we kept kissing, stroking, and working each other closer to the edge, and when I tensed, so did he.
The orgasm smacked into me like that thunderstorm the other night, intense and loud, a force of nature unto its own. Nate moaned my name as his hips thrust one last time. My toes curled and my entire body felt like it was levitating when I felt him follow after me.
For a few breathless seconds, the world shrank to just the two of us, sharing air while our heartbeats knocked wildly against our ribs. I was still trembling when Nate let go of me. His movements weren’t abrupt and his expression wasn’t cold, but everything about it was decisive.
