Then I kiss him. His hands slide up my back, pulling me in closer, pressing me against him until there’s no space left between us, making sure I feel his hard cock.
He groans into my mouth before standing and lifting me up. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and he carries me out of the kitchen and down the hallway, never breaking the kiss.
We stumble into his bedroom. He lays me down on the bed. Follows me down. His weight presses me into the mattress.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my throat. His lips drag across my skin. Hot. Wet. Taking their time. “I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day.”
“Yeah?”
My hands find the bottom of his shirt. I pull it up over his head and toss it onto the pile of clothes already on the floor somewhere behind him.
“Yeah.” His hands work at the button of my jeans. “Thought about you in that hospital room, sitting there waiting. Thought about getting you home. Getting you under me. Making you forget everything else.”
My breath catches. “Jace.”
“I got you, Bells.” His mouth finds mine again. Deep. Consuming. “I got you.”
He kisses me for a long time, his mouth moving against mine with a lazy confidence that makes my toes curl. His tongue slides against mine. It’s the kind of kiss that says he’s got all night and plans to enjoy every second of it.
His hands slide up under my shirt. Palms rough against my stomach and ribs. He’s not rushing or grabbing. Just touching. Learning. Memorizing.
“This needs to come off,” he murmurs against my lips. His fingers tug at the hem of my shirt.
I lift my arms. He pulls it up over my head and tosses it aside without looking. His eyes drop to my chest. To the plain black bra I’m wearing.
“Fuck me,” he says quietly. His thumb traces the edge of the cup, barely touching, just enough to make my breath hitch. “You’re so fucking pretty, Bells.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious.” His eyes lift to mine. Dark. Heated. Something almost vulnerable flickers behind them before he blinks it away. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Before I can respond, his mouth is on my neck—kissing, sucking. His teeth scrape my pulse point, and I gasp. My hands fly to his hair, gripping tight.
He takes his time working his way down. His lips trail over my collarbone. The swell of my breasts above my bra. He kisses the valley between them, then moves lower. His mouth hot against my stomach.
His hands finally move to my jeans. He pops the button, then slowly unzips them. He hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls, sliding them down my hips and thighs as he takes his time peeling them off.
When he looks up at me from between my legs, my stomach flips.
“These too,” he says, his fingers tracing the edge of my underwear. Black cotton. Nothing special. But the way he’s looking at them you’d think they were made of silk.
“Jace.”
“What?” His mouth curves into that cocky smirk that drives me insane. “I want to see all of you.”
He slowly pulls my underwear down, watching my face the whole time. When they’re off, he doesn’t immediately touch me; he just looks, his eyes roaming over every inch of exposed skin.
“Stop staring,” I say, my voice breathless.
“Can’t help it.” He runs his hand up my calf, over my knee, and along my inner thigh. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
His fingers brush over my pussy, feather light, testing.
“Shit, Bells.” His voice drops lower. “You’re already soaked for me.”
“It’s your fault.”
“Yeah?” He does it again. Drags his fingers through my wetness. Circles my clit with just enough pressure to make me squirm. “Is this all for me?”
