“What did I feel?”
I give her a squeeze. “Like the world finally stopped spinning. Like there was a chance at something. As if we could finally stopbeing on the outside looking in. Like we could be part of our own story for once.”
“Okay, mind reader,” she teases, squeezing my leg.
I shift away, a warm shiver coursing up my thigh. She tilts her head up at me.
“Is something wrong?”
I glance at the door.
“Don’t worry,” she says, laughing softly. “I’m not going to jump your bones.”
“It’s better if you don’t play with fire,” I warn.
Her face lights up, a clear sense of power flooding her features. “Is that what I’m doing,playing with fire?”
I lean down and bring my face to hers. Her breath whispers over me as my body responds as fiercely as the ache in my chest. “Yes, angel, that’sexactlywhat you’re doing. I’ve spent a year thinking about you, dreaming, fantasizing. One touch is enough to set me ablaze. I’m a man who’s used to taking what I want. Don’t tempt me to be that… that goddamnsavagehere. Now.”
She reaches down, never taking her eyes off me, and lays her hand against my thigh again.
“Do you need me to show you how difficult you’re making things?” I groan, reaching down and squeezing onto her thick, perfect leg.
She moans, a noise that goes straight to my base, firing through me like liquid temptation. She looks at me with wide eyes, the same desire in them I remember from our magical night together.
“Your parents are in the next room,” I growl.
She bites her lip, nods, never takes her eyes off me. Maybe the danger is part of the excitement. Or maybe it’s just like that first night. We’re magnetized, our physical chemistry never in question even when things get complicated.
I slide my hand up her leg, glancing at the door, my length throbbing as I glide closer to her sex.
“Has anyone touched you since me?” I growl.
“Okay, Mr. Possessive,” she says, trying for sassy, but her voice comes out breathy and needy.
I risk a look at her, my face deadly serious. “Answer the question.”
She shakes her head slowly.
Fuck.
I slide the rest of the way, pushing my hand between her legs, sure I can feel her wetness even through the fabric of her clothes. She bites down and leans against me, burying her face against my chest.
I know I should stop. We’re getting out of control, but I can’t. I’m like some savage animal who’s finally got his hands on something he’s been waiting too damn long for.
I pump my arm up and down, savoring the sounds of her muffled moans against me, the way she squeezes her thighs around my hand as if to trap me there. Faster, harder, more urgently, I move my arm up and down until her hips rock and she has to bite down on my shoulder to stop from screaming.
When the orgasm hits her, hot precome leaks achingly out of my end, soaking my briefs, making me shudder as I warn myself this is the furthest we can go here. We’ve gone far enough already.
She sits back, face red, chest heaving.
“Whoa,” she murmurs.
“I warned you,” I growl.
She glances at the door, then smooths her shirt down. “Is this… normal for you?”
“What?”
