“Show you what?”
“Everything,” I whispered. “I want to know what it feels like to want someone this much.”
“You want me?” she asked, her hand stilling.
“More than anything.”
She leaned closer, her forehead nearly touching mine. “Are you sure?”
Instead of answering with words, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to hers with more confidence than I’d had that afternoon. This time, I was ready for everything, for the way my body seemed to melt into hers.
When we pulled apart, we were both breathing hard.
“Come here,” she said softly, her hands moving to my waist.
Before I could process what was happening, she was lifting me, guiding me until I was straddling her lap, my knees on either side of her thighs. The new position put us at eye level, very intimate.
Her hands settled on my hips, thumbs tracing small circles through the fabric of my jeans.
“Better.”
I gripped her shoulders for balance, overwhelmed by how close we were, how right this felt despite being completely outside my experience.
“What now?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
Her smile turned slow and dangerous. “Now I will show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”
Her mouth crashed back onto mine, hungrier and deeper. I melted into her, gasping when she dragged my hips against the firm muscle of her thigh. The friction jolted through me.
She groaned against my lips and slid her hands lower, squeezing me hard. “Mist, I love your ass,” she rasped. “So soft, I could hold you here forever.”
The words stole the air from my lungs. Nobody had ever spoken to me like that, like I was something worth worshipping.
I tugged at her shirt, desperate to feel more of her. She stripped it off in one swift motion, and my breath caught.
Tattoos sprawled across her upper body….dark lines crawling over her arms and torso, a snake coiled around her upper arm, a butterfly resting on her forearm. And between her breasts, just above the hollow of her stomach, a small spiral sat at the centre of her sternum.
I couldn’t stop staring.
“You like them?” she teased, her grin wicked but intense.
“They’re beautiful,” I whispered. “You’re beautiful.”
Something flickered in her expression, then she kissed me again, flipping us and pressing me back onto the couch. Her tatted body brushed my skin as her mouth slid down my throat, and my hands shook as I traced the ink along her arm. She moaned, the sound vibrating against my neck, and rocked me harder into her thigh until I was whimpering.
“That’s it,” she coaxed. “Don’t hold back, princess. Feel me.”
My body obeyed, grinding against her helplessly. Sparks shot through me with every drag of her thigh against me, wetness pooling between my thighs.
She broke the kiss, panting. “You feel that?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
“That’s just my thigh, baby. Wait until I really touch you.”
Her words undid me. She stood up and dragged me up with her as she tugged my shirt over my head, and I froze under her gaze. Her eyes moved slowly over me, my breasts half-covered by my white lace bra, my rounded stomach, my hips, and the hunger in her eyes made me shiver.
“Du machst mich wild?*” She made a tortured sound before kissing me hard.
