Everything’s fine. Everything’s perfect. It’s just us here. Just her and me, and this room that is going to have her scent everywhere by the time morning rolls around.
Her eyes drag down my chest, and I watch her swallow. The sight of it, the way her throat moves, has my cock twitching in my jeans.
“Abel,” she breathes, and there’s a hint of disbelief there.
I get it, I do. I’m still trying to figure out how I landed such a beauty.
I move to the bed, crawling over her, and my hands find the hem of her shirt. “Lift up,” I murmur, and she does, arching offthe mattress so I can pull the fabric over her head and toss it to join my shirt on the floor.
Her bra is simple, pale blue, and I want it gone. But first—
My jeans. They’re too tight, too restrictive. I sit back on my heels, fumbling with the button, and I must look desperate because Tatum props herself up on her elbows and watches me struggle with a soft laugh.
“Need help?” she asks, and there’s a teasing lilt to her voice that makes my fingers even clumsier.
I pause and look at her. Taking in the sight of her, half-undressed and smiling, something in my chest cracks open.
“Too fast?” The question falls out before I can stop it. I need to hear her say it’s okay. I need to know she’s sure.
She shakes her head, confirming her hunger matches mine.
And I’m smiling before I can help it. A curve of my mouth that feels feral, wolfish, like I’ve just been given permission to devour.
The button finally gives. I shove my jeans down my thighs, kicking them off along with my boxers, not caring where they land. Then I’m back over her, my mouth finding the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, and she gasps.
“Better,” I murmur against her skin. “This is better.”
My fingers find the clasp of her bra, and it takes me three damn tries before it’s off, and she’s bare beneath me, and I have to pause just to look at her.
I willnevergrow tired of this view.
She blushes in response, near instantly. That same blush from the diner, spreading across her chest, and I groan, dipping my head to press my mouth to the heat of it.
Her hands find my back, nails scraping lightly, and it spurs me on. I work at her shorts, shimmying them down her legs, and she lifts her hips to help me. The last of her clothes join the pile on the floor, and then there’s nothing between us. Nothing at all.
I settle between her thighs, and the feeling of her skin against mine—all that warm, soft skin—makes my eyes want to roll back in my head.
“Abel.” My name on her lips, breathless and wanting. She’s wiggling, already parting her thighs like she’s ready for a continuation of what we’d done earlier.
I prop myself up on one elbow, looking down at her, and I slide my free hand down her body. Past her ribs, past her stomach, until my fingers find the heat between her legs.
She gasps, hips twitching toward my hand, and I smile against her neck.
“Mine,” I murmur, and I press a kiss to the sensitive skin just below her ear. Then I suck hard enough to leave a mark. Hard enough that she’ll see it tomorrow and remember exactly who put it there.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, and she makes a sound—half moan, half whimper—that goes straight to my cock.
My fingers work her slowly, enjoying the way she responds to each touch. She’s wet, and the knowledge that I did that, that she wants this as much as I do, has my hips pressing into her thigh.
“You feel that?” I ask against her neck, pressing my length against her leg. “That’s what you do to me.”
She turns her head, capturing my mouth in a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and dripping with need. When she breaks away, gasping for air, her eyes are glossy.
“I want you inside me,” she whispers. “Please, Abel. I need—”
I don’t let her finish. I shift, positioning myself at her entrance, and I look her in the eyes.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
