“I knew you’d be trouble.” His mouth leaves mine and trails down my neck, my collarbone, until his lips close around my nipple.
“You spoke to me first.” I gasp.
My fingers thread through his hair, holding him there. His tongue flicks and teases, and the pleasure builds in waves. When he moves to the other side, I’m nearly squirming beneath him.
“You’re so damn right about that,” he says. “I felt like … like I’d known you. Kindred spirits.”
“Louis.” His name comes out breathless.
He kisses his way down my stomach, and his hands grip my hips. “It’s cliché, but you had me atworld peace.”
Laughter falls from my lips as he kisses back up my body, across my ribs, between my breasts, along my throat. He’s taking his time exploring me, like he’s mapping me with his mind. His hand moves between my thighs and pulls my underwear aside. His fingers find me wet and wanting. He groans against my neck.
“Always so ready for me.” He breathes.
“Yes.” I rock against his hand. “It’s only ever been you.”
He parts me, dragging his fingers through my slick heat. His thumb finds my clit and circles in a rhythm that makes my breath catch. Already, he’s memorized what I need.
“Keep going,” I whisper.
He pushes a finger inside me, and I moan. He watches my reaction as he adds another, stretching and curling just right. The pleasure winds tighter, and my hips lift toward his hand.
“That’s it,” he mutters. “Take exactly what you need.”
I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock. He’s hard and thick, and he groans at my touch.
“I want you buried deep inside me.”
His forehead drops to mine, and his breath shudders out. “You’re going to kill me.”
“What a way to go.”
He laughs, and I love the way it sounds.
“I need you,” I say. “Now.”
“That’s what you want?” He finger-fucks me until I’m teetering on the edge.
“Yes,” I can barely say.
Louis pulls his fingers, placing them in his mouth with a sexy smirk. Then he unbuckles his belt, tugging it from the loops with a pop. His pants and boxers are next, and seeing him causes my breath to catch.
His cock is hard and thick, curving slightly toward his stomach. The sight of him has me squeezing my thighs together.
“Scared?” he teases.
“A little.” I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his length.
He’s hot and heavy in my palm, and when I stroke him from base to tip, his head falls back, and a groan tears from his throat.
“Addison.” He sounds wrecked.
I stroke him again, watching his stomach muscles clench. I slide out from under him as he leans back against the couch, then settle on the floor between his legs to place him in my mouth. The sound he makes is guttural, almost pained. His hand flies to my hair, fingers threading through the strands, not pushing but holding on like he needs something to anchor him.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
I look up to meet his eyes and take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks. He’s thick against my tongue, and I relax my throat to take more of him. It causes his thighs to tremble under my palms.
