I’m really going to do this.
“Maybe we should have sex again. Maybe that will get rid of all this jealousy we’re both feeling and?—”
That’s as far as I get. His mouth crashes into mine, stealing the rest of the words right out of my mouth. The kiss isn’t gentle. Not by a long shot. It’s rough. Hungry. Like he’s been holding back for far too long.
I gasp against his mouth as his hands slide up my thighs, pulling me closer to the edge of the island. My hands move on instinct, sliding around his back, my fingers spreading across the warm, hard planes of muscle. His body tightens under my touch, and the reaction sends a jolt straight through me.
I moan softly into his mouth. Tuck answers with a low sound of his own, his grip tightening just enough to make my pulse race faster.
For a moment, the rest of the world disappears.
No past.
No future.
Just this.
Just him.
“Tuck.”
“Yeah, babe,” he murmurs, his mouth going to my cheeks, nose, forehead, before settling in the hollow of my throat. He kisses my sensitive flesh, and I slide my hands over his back, lightly raking his skin with my nails.
His kisses are warm, wet, as he slides his mouth along my skin and I move my body, shamelessly rub myself against his stomach. When have I ever needed—craved—a man so much?
His fingers touch the hem of my loose T-shirt, and his eyes meet mine when I lift my arms, granting him full permission to do with me what he pleases, and from the look in his eyes…he pleases.
He peels my shirt off, and a soft moan of pleasure rumbles in his throat when he finds me bare beneath it. He strokes me with his eyes first, and my nipples tighten under his appreciative gaze. Then his hands are on me, softly. Brushing the outer edges of my breasts before skimming the bottoms.
His eyes lift to mine again, and when he wets his lips, I lean back on my hands, arching into him. “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs before dipping his head. That first sweet touch of his hot, wet tongue to my tight nipples pulls a moan from my throat.
“Tuck, yes,” I whisper and slide one hand around his head, holding his mouth to me as he runs the soft blade of his tongue over my hard bud. “That’s so good.”
He moves to my other breast, treating that nipple to the same pleasure, before sucking it in hard. The pleasure shoots through my body and settles deep between my legs. My body ripples, my pajama pants grow damp, and he must sense the urgency in me because he inches back, his palm going to my cheek.
“I need to fuck you.”
“I need you to fuck me,” I murmur, and he grins, because I never talk like that and he knows it.
“You want my cock in here?” He slides a hand between my legs, and lightly strokes me through the cotton.
I groan, because I get it. He likes when I talk like that and wants more of it. Wants me free, relaxed, open and unapologetic.
“Yes, I want your cock in there.”
“Here, in your hot little pussy?”
“Oh God,” I murmur and he angles his head, waiting for more. “Yes, Tuck. I want your cock in my hot little pussy.”
“That’s my girl.”
He picks me up and carries me to the kitchen table, a much better height for what he’s about to do to me. Instead of sitting me on it, he sets me on the floor and I’m about to slide onto the table when he stops me and turns me around.
“This…” he begins, and cups my ass cheeks. “I’ve been dying to get my hands here all day.” He presses his chest to my back, forcing me forward and I lean over the table, my bare breasts on the cool hard oak.
His fingers trace along the band of my pants and I can’t help but wiggle, practically begging for him to take them off me, put his hand and mouth where I need them most.
“Please,” I murmur, and his hot huff of air, falls over my naked skin.
