Ikickthedoorshutwith my heel the moment we cross the threshold of her cottage. The restraint I was barely clinging to in the truck is all but gone as I pin her to the door, the soft thump of her back hitting the wood barely registering as her mouth crashes into mine again.
It’s heated and rushed as she devours me with her tongue.
“Jesus,” I breathe into her kiss, the word half laugh, half groan.
Her hand rakes down my back before she reaches behind us, fumbling with the lock on the door.
I pull my mouth away from hers as I glance down at her swollen lips. “You live in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think the lock matters.”
“It matters.” Her eyes flare with a look of something I can’t quite read.
I spin around, flick the lock, and turn my attention back toward her. “Better?”
“Better.” Her voice is raspy, lust filled and irresistible.
I trail my hand up her chest, feeling the rise and fall of each breath as I snake my fingers behind her neck, gripping it tightly and pulling her face back to mine. Her hands follow their own path up my chest like she’s relearning me.
“Don’t stop,” she murmurs, breathless.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I say, kissing her again.
This moment is nothing like the last time we were in this living room together. No sharp edges or anger. The desperation clawing at us is charged differently. It’s not us pushing the past out of our systems.
This heat has weight to it.
A want, threading itself deeper.
Our tongues duel as our hands roam, the heat between us building and building. I rip my mouth away from her lips to trail open-mouthed kisses over her jaw and down her neck, lapping and sucking, tasting every inch of her as I go.
“Jett,” she moans, and I nearly come undone. Right here, right now.
She drags me away from the door, hand gripped tightly in mine. Her whiskey eyes flicker with heat and desire as she moves backward through the living room. I take in the smell of the cottage as I follow her. Clean linen, vanilla, and a hint of something floral drifting from upstairs. We bump into door frames as we rush through the kitchen toward the stairs.
But I stop abruptly, pulling on her hand and tugging her toward me until she falls against my chest. I can't wait any longer; I need more, and I need it now. My lips catch hers again, and I'm ravishing her mouth as I gently maneuver her onto one of the steps. It’s awkward adjusting ourselves without breaking our connection. She sucks on my tongue, and I moan in her mouth. I wrap a hand behind her back to keep the wood from digging into her skin while my other hand trails down the silky material of her dress.
Gripping the hem, I pull until her flesh is exposed. Smooth, creamy skin begging for my touch. I smooth my hand down her thigh before sliding it toward her center. I can feel the heat from her arousal before I graze the seam of her thong. We moan into each other as I feel her wetness.
“Oh god,” she calls out.
“Jett, baby,” I correct before slipping a finger underneath her panties. I groan at how slick she is. Her legs widen, giving mepermission to sink my fingers inside her. I plunge two fingers deep into her weeping pussy as she gasps.
My thumb flicks over her clit as I draw tight circles. My fingers work faster as I pump my digits, curling them forward and hitting her soft spot. Wren throws her head back, and I adjust my hand to prevent her from hitting it on the stairs.
“That’s it, baby,” I praise as I work her over.
Her pussy flutters as it tightens against my fingers. She’s close, so fucking close, and I rip my fingers from her.
“Jett,” she screams as I lean back on my heels. I glance down at my woman, spread and exposed, desperate for release.
“So fucking beautiful.”
“I’d be more beautiful if you’d let me come,” she growls. “I was so close.”
“I know.” I smirk as I bring my drenched fingers to my lips. Slipping them into my mouth, I suck her taste off them and groan as her flavor bursts across my tongue.
My attention snaps to her half-hooded eyes and splotchy cheeks. Spreading her legs as wide as I can in this tiny stairwell, I get an eyeful of her lacy nude thong. It hides her sweet pussy from me, but not for long.
“This has to go,” I grit out as I reach for the sides. Sliding the material down her hips, I watch on bated breath as she exposes herself to me. Slowly, I trail the lace down her thighs, over her knees, before pulling them off her ankles and tucking the material into my pocket.
