My hands press against her hips on both sides, pulling her the rest of the way to me, as my lips press to the shell of her ear. “That looks like a naughty book, Liv,” I whisper.
“That’s because itisa naughty book, Alex,” she whispers back, finally caving and undoing the top button on my shirt.
I back her up until the back of her legs meet the arm of the couch. My fingers edge up the bottom hem of her tank top, nudging it up an inch. I press my lips to the side of her neck, right over her pulse point just to feel it thrumming against my touch.
She gets another button on my shirt undone while I trail kisses up her neck to her jaw, then along it to her lips where she meets them eagerly.
I crack, pushing her tank top further up until I can reach behind her back and unclasp her bra. I have a pretty good idea of her breast size but haven’t gotten to see them yet. That’s about to change.
Her bra comes loose with a soft snap, and I waste no time pulling the tank top over her head. The fabric whispers against her skin as it clears her face, and then she's there, bathed in the soft lamplight of her living room. She's perfect. More than perfect. My breath catches in my throat.
My fingers edge up the bottom hem of her tank top, nudging it up an inch. I press my lips to the side of her neck, right over her pulse point just to feel it thrumming against my touch.
She gets another button on my shirt undone while I trail kisses up her neck to her jaw again, then along it to her lips where she meets them eagerly. The kiss is hungry and desperate. There's no slow build, not tonight. Tonight is about need, about finally giving in to the current that's been pulling us together for weeks.
My shirt hangs open, forgotten, as I lift her effortlessly. Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms around my neck, and I carry her the few steps to her bedroom. I don't bother with the light; the moonlight streaming through her window is enough. It casts silver shadows across her skin as I lay her down on the bed.
I follow her down, bracing my weight on my forearms. I look at her, really look at her. Her hair is fanned out across the pillow,her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Her eyes are dark, almost black in the dim light, and they're locked on mine.
“Alex,” she whispers, and it's the only word I need to hear.
I lower my head, capturing her lips again as my hands explore the newly exposed skin of her stomach, her ribs, and the soft curve of her waist. She arches into my touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips that goes straight to my groin.
My hands move to the waistband of her shorts, and she lifts her hips to help me slide them down. I toss them aside, my eyes never leaving hers. Then it's my turn. She makes quick work of my belt, my button, and then my zipper. Her hands are shaking slightly, but she's determined. My pants and boxers join her shorts on the floor.
And then there's nothing between us. Nothing but moonlight and heat and the sound of our breathing.
I kiss her again, deeper this time, as my hands roam her body, learning every curve, every dip. I want to memorize her. I want to know what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her dig her nails into my back and beg for more.
Her hands are just as busy, exploring the planes of my chest, the muscles of my back, the sensitive skin just above my hipbones. Every touch is a spark, every kiss is a flame, and I'm burning up from the inside out.
I move down her body, my lips tracing a path from her collarbones to her navel. She tastes like salt and something uniquely her, something sweet and addictive. I linger there, enjoying the way she squirms beneath me, her hands tangled in my hair.
“Alex,” she gasps, her voice strained. “Please.”
I look up at her, and the raw need in her eyes is my undoing. I move back up her body, positioning myself between her thighs.
She looks up at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Have you ever used your cuffs for... well...?”
My eyes go wide.
Chapter 28
Liv
The click of the metal is louder than my heartbeat, or maybe it just drowns it out. I’m standing at the edge of my bed. My bedroom and my apartment as a whole, my sanctuary, feel both too big and too small with him in it right now.
“You're sure about this?” he asks for the fifth time, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my spine. His eyes, usually sharp and analytical, are soft on me, waiting.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I’ve never let anyone… tie me up. But I trust you, Alex.” I lift my gaze to his, letting him see the raw, trembling vulnerability I usually keep locked away. “I want to.”
He takes another step towards me, closing the distance between us. He pulls the cuffs from the pocket of his pants on the floor, and my breath immediately hitches.
He sees it. Of course, he sees it. He stops, holding the cuffs loosely. “Liv. Look at me.”
I force my eyes to meet his. “I'm looking.”
“I won’t hurt you,” he says, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “This is me. This is us. Your safe word is 'scalpel'. Say it, and this ends. No questions, no disappointment. They come off immediately.”
