I let my hand do a little wandering of its own, my fingertips skimming beneath the hem of her sweater to feel bare skin beneath. Her belly quivers under my touch, her breath catches in a gasp that I collect with my tongue, and I feel the way she shivers all over, feel the flutter of her lashes against my cheek.
“Abby,” I breathe. “Where is this going?”
She pulls back, her lips kiss bitten and her eyes hooded. “I don’t know.”
“Are we…Do you want to…?”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” she says succinctly.
“This is fine,” I tell her immediately. “We can just—”
“But we can do this,” she tells me, driving home her point with another press of her lips against mine. “Maybe a little more,” she murmurs, her hand suddenly cupping me through my jeans.
I hiss at the contact, my eyes slamming shut as I tilt my hips into her touch.
“Abby,” I groan. “Let me touch you at least. Can I?”
When my eyes open, I notice her pupils are blown, her lips parted in surprise. A shaky breath escapes her as she nods back at me, and I waste no time gathering her into my arms, my handsgripping her ass to pull her up against my body as her legs wrap around my waist. Now that I have her permission, the need to touch her is overwhelming.
The untouchable Abigail Thompson, and yet she’s givenmepermission.
I can’t get her to my room fast enough.
We lose our shoes on the way; I kick my door open with socked feet as my lips wander across her throat, tasting her,savoringher—because it’s hitting me just now how badly I want to. How much I might have wanted to long before this. She’s such amystery, Abby—one I want to solve.
We fall into my bed together, her mouth still on mine and her hands roaming wherever they can reach—under my shirt, beneath the waistband of my jeans so that her nails tease at my ass—all of it driving me just a little more wild as my hands grip at her hips.
“I want to taste you,” I tell her, my voice sounding like a plea. “I want to make you come.”
She squirms in my hold. “You don’t have to—”
“Iwantto,” I stress. “But only if you want me to.”
Her teeth worry at her lower lip as she looks up at me, her blond hair falling around her face like a halo. She looks torn, but not against it.
“Only if you want me to,” I say again, quieter this time, as my finger teases the button of her jeans.
Her nod is barely there, but the lust in her eyes is burning and bright when she says, “Touch me.”
“Thank fuck,” I mutter, quickly unbuttoning her jeans and tugging them down her thighs.
Her skin is pale and soft-looking, and all I can think about isgetting my mouth between her legs, seeing if she tastes as good as she looks. She helps me shimmy her out of her jeans before I toss them aside, and when I notice the damp spot between her legs, it makes me feel feral, knowing I made her this way.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I hum, palming her thighs and tugging them apart.
She laughs even as I hook my fingers into the elastic of her underwear at her hips. “In an Ian way.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that,” I groan.
Her smile is devilish. “Probably not.”
“Hm.” I smirk, teasing her underwear over her hips and down her thighs to reveal wet, blond curls and the heady scent of her arousal. “What if I told you that you’re so pretty it hurts to look at you sometimes?”
Fuck.
She’s already so wet. Wet forme. For all the time I’ve known Abby, I never imagined that she could ever feel anything for me. I’ve known from the moment I met her that she was too good for me, and yet here she is beneath me, wriggling and writhing and begging without words for my touch.
“Look at you,” I rasp, running my palms up the insides of her thighs. “So fucking wet for me.”
