"Stop…" he tried to gasp out, his voice no more than a strangled whisper. His determination faltered as the tip of her tongue traced a path along him. He shuddered beneath her touch, his breath hitching in his chest.
“Am I too much for you?” she mused.
“Definitely.” He took her by the shoulders, yanking the flimsy shirt over her head and tossing it to the side. Greedily, he took her hard nipple into his mouth, sucking, tasting, savoring.
She guided his hand down her stomach and between her legs.
Her breath hitched as he found her slick and ready. She moaned his name, the sweet sound of it shooting straight to his groin.
“Patch…” she breathed. “I need you…” She was a temptress, a siren singing him toward blissful oblivion, and he was utterly willing to be led astray.
With a growl, he lifted her onto the kitchen counter, the remains of their breakfast abandoned and forgotten as he spread her legs wide. With a wicked smile, she hitched one leg higher around his waist, presenting herself to his eager gaze.
His heart pounded in his chest as he took in the sight of her. His beautiful Savvy, displayed for him alone in the early morning light. He couldn’t resist sliding a finger into her warmth, drawing a gasp from her parted lips.
“Jesus…” he muttered under his breath. The way she reacted to his touch was intoxicating. He could spend days worshipping those reactions, but right then, they didn’t have days… they had mere moments and the sizzling current between them begged to be quenched.
“Bent over the kitchen table,” he managed between hot, raspy breaths.
"Huh?" She arched an eyebrow at him, eyes glinting with unspoken challenge.
"You mentioned it earlier," he said, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Sounded like a hell of an idea."
A low, throaty laugh slipped from her lips. “Is that right?”
“Damn straight,” he replied, his fingers rolling her nipples until she squirmed. With quick movements, he lifted her off the counter, and she wrapped her legs around him as he moved to the kitchen table. He turned her, running a hand over her soft, round ass as he pushed her over the table, positioning himself between her legs.
With a soft groan of anticipation, she splayed her thighs wider, allowing him to settle perfectly against her. He pressed a searing kiss to the small of her back, his hands moving up to grip her hips.
“God, Savvy…” His voice was heavy with desire as he slid inside her, pressing deep until he filled her completely.
Her breath hitched, and she clawed at the wooden table.
His thrusts were slow, gentle. He made love to her as if they had all the time in the world, even when every cell in his body demanded he move faster, take more. But Savvy… Savvy deserved everything. And he'd give it to her until his last breath.
Every stroke was measured, deliberate, and she matched him, pushing back against him with equal fervor. He twisted her hair into his fist and pulled back gently while brushing light kisses along her spine.
Every gasp she made encouraged him. Every thrust tore a moan from his throat. Their bodies collided in rhythm with the gentle morning light seeping through the kitchen curtains. This dance of theirs was primal but graced with an intimacy only special people could experience. A gasping whisper of their linked names hung in the air, echoing softly within the silence of their shared space.
“Patch… I can’t…” The raspy sound of her voice sent a hot quiver down his spine as he picked up his pace, moving swiftly within her.
“Let go for me.” His voice was husky in the quiet room as he nudged that sweet spot inside her again and again. His fingers skimmed across her bud, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through her body until finally…
Her climax was a wave crashing against the shore—immediate, powerful, and leaving her gasping for breath. He grunted, his own release following closely behind.
Patch collapsed onto Savvy, a mess of sweat and heavy breaths. His heart pounded in sync with hers, their shared warmth enveloping them like a familiar blanket. He kissed her tenderly, tangling a hand in her hair while the other roamed the soft curvature of her body.
“Was that what you had in mind?” he asked.
“Pretty much,” she said, softly chuckling. “But our breakfast is now burnt to a crisp.”
The sound of his security app on his phone rang out.
“Well, fuck,” he muttered.
“What’s that?”
“Your brother, and he’ll be pulling into that clearing in about three minutes.” Patch stood tall, turning in a circle, looking for clothing. He tossed his boxers and the shirt she’d been wearing at her. “Put those on and start cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.” He hiked his jeans up over his hips and carefully zipped them. “I’ll cut McGuire off at the door.” He let out a puff of air. He couldn’t just toss her aside like a side hustle. He reached for her, pulling her gently to his chest and kissing her soft lips. “I’m sorry. I’ll deal with?—”
