It’s everything I dreamed of in that fever dream I didn’t know was real until I woke alone.
It’s everything I’ve been trying to pretend I didn’t want.
“Stitch,” he groans against my lips, dragging me somehow closer, grinding his hips up and,oh, that’s even better.
Rocking against me, sending sparks of pleasure through my body.
More.
I wantmore.
And he seems to be thinking the same wonderful thing.
Because suddenly I’m on my back on the couch cushions, his big body on top of mine, and?—
Good.
It’s so fuckinggood.
He parts my lips, sweeps his tongue inside, and then we’re kissing and kissing, deep and long and wet, his hips grinding into mine, his hands trailing along my side. Over my hip, across my ribs, up to cup my?—
“Oh!” I gasp, my head falling back, my legs tightening around him.
He massages my breast, thumb brushing over the hard bud of my nipple, and I gasp again. “More,” I whisper, and he obliges me.
Another kiss.
More kneading of my flesh.
Rolling my nipple between thumb and forefinger.
His lips leave mine, dragging along my throat, kissing across my jaw. He pauses at my ear, his words hot puffs of sensation against my flesh. “More?” he asks.
I nod.
And am rewarded with another blazing kiss.
“More?” he asks again.
I nod again.
He grins and then he’s kissing me.
Not slow. Not lazy. Not softly.
It’s searing. It’s deep. It’s…
Blanketing me in pleasure for what feels like an eternity.
“More,” I whisper when he pulls back to let us both breathe.
But instead of kissing me again, he settles his forehead against mine. “Beautiful.”
“Kiss me,” I murmur, trying to press my lips to his.
He pulls back and draws me upright, tucking me into his side. “You know you asked me to do that before.” A nuzzling kiss to my temple. “But I don’t think you remember.”
My cheeks heat.
