“Please.” I hear the desperation in my own voice.
Josh pulls back and sets me down. I sway, knees shaky, thighs aching with desire. He wraps an arm around my waist to steady me.
“Your wish is my command,” he rasps, and takes my hand.
He never lets go of my hand as he leads me quickly to the elevator. As soon as the doors open and we see we’re alone, he’s on me again, hoisting me up like I weigh nothing and pushing me against the mirrored wall. His mouth finds mine again and this time his kiss is slower—deeper. A reclaiming. Every part of me that he touches ignites a fire on my skin.
“I love feeling you against me like this,” he growls in my ear, before gently sucking on the lobe.
“Uh-huh.” A breathless sound escapes me. I’m unable to formulate words.
It’s a long fucking ride to fourteen, tension coiling tighter in me with every floor. My breath comes faster, my heart pounding in rhythm with his. I want to lose myself in him.
His hand skims up the side of my thigh, fingers slipping beneath my shorts and drawing a straight line up my center. He groans when he feels how wet I am already.
“So fucking ready for me,” Josh growls.
He kisses me again, softer this time, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of my mouth. We’re a mess of heat and desperation and I don’t care who sees.
The elevator dings and without any hesitation, Josh carries me off, down the long hallway, straight to our room. I cling to him, dizzy from the closeness. As if I’m afraid I’m somehow imagining this.
He stops at our room, balancing me as he reaches for the room key in his pocket. Unlocking the door, he kicks it wide enough that we can step through without breaking contact. And then he gently lays me on the bed.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Melanie.” His voice is raw, trembling with emotion I haven’t heard from him in decades.
I don’t reply. Instead, I sit up, stripping away my T-shirt and unhooking my bra in one swift movement.
Josh’s breath hitches audibly, and he pulls his shirt over his head. Then he’s crawling toward me, his breath hot and hungry as his mouth folds around one nipple. I gasp, arching into him, my hands threading through his hair. He moves to the other nipple, sucking and nibbling until my body thrums with need. His palm presses gently over my sternum, easing me back onto the bed. Using one arm, he pins my hands above my head, tethering us together. His other hand glides up the inside of my thigh until he’s at the hem of my shorts again.
“Let me feel you,” he murmurs, sliding two fingers inside, slow at first and then curling with just the right amount of pressure.
I cry out, lifting my hips to meet his hand. My eyes flutter close. He knows exactly how to touch me—it’s like he’s remembering a language we used to speak fluently.
He pulls his hand back and I open my eyes to see him licking his fingers clean, a moan escaping him.
“You’re so sweet.” Then, his eyes lock on me and his hand finds my lips. “Want a taste?”
I nod, dazed, as his fingers slide into my mouth. I suck gently, savoring the taste and the way his pupils dilate as he watches.
“Fuck baby,” he whispers. “You undo me.”
Then his mouth is on mine again, kissing me like he’s trying to kiss away all the years we lost. Everything collapses—grief, guilt, love, longing. Like he’s trying to devour all the pain, all the years between us. It’s rough and desperate and unlike any other time before.
I free a hand and reach for the waistband of his shorts, yanking them and his boxers down in one tug.
A gasp falls from my mouth and into his. I wrap my hands around him, stroking feverishly until he’s growling into my mouth and urgently tugging at my own shorts.
“Two can play at this game,” I murmur into our kiss.
Josh pushes my shorts down and immediately settles between my legs, sinking into me. I cry out at the skin-to-skin sensation. He pulls out agonizingly slow before quickly sinking back in. With each thrust, my walls grow slicker. I wrap my legs around him, and his lips find mine again. Suddenly, it’s not so desperate—it’s achingly beautiful.
Our eyes lock, breath tangled between us, hearts beating in sync.
Josh presses his forehead to mine. “God, Mel,” he breathes. “You feel like home.”
He shifts, freeing one of my hands to lace our fingers together. He pushes sweaty strands of hair from my forehead, and our noses brush together. I close my eyes and allow my body to meld with his completely.
His lips are on mine then, kissing me softer this time. His hand presses against mine, anchoring us. I open my eyes to find him gazing at me. He brushes hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ear, moving slowly in and out of me like we have all the time in the world.
