I raise an eyebrow.‘Bold of you to assume I’m the one getting attached.’
‘You’ve been attached since I showed you the Emu constellation.’I open my mouth to protest, but his lips are already back on mine – hot, commanding and cocky enough to back up every word he’s said.
His hands trail down again, one sliding under my thigh to pull me closer, the other braced on the pillow beside my head.The weight of his body against mine is all consuming.Skin on skin, breath to breath, every inch of him pressed into me like a question he’s daring me to answer.
I arch up, my hands grazing the muscles of his back.
‘You’re not as smooth as you think you are,’ I manage to say between kisses.
‘Maybe,’ he murmurs into the corner of my jaw.He dips his head lower, lips skimming over my collarbone and then the tender skin of my nipple.I suck in a breath and try not to sound too affected, which is a joke, because my body is melting under his touch.
‘How are you so warm?’I mutter, curling my fingers into his damp hair.
He hums against my skin.‘Maybe I’m not cold-blooded like you city types.’
I laugh, but it’s shaky, because his mouth has found a very sensitive spot under my ribs.I lead one of his hands down between my legs.‘I’m not cold-blooded.’
He smiles and sucks on my other nipple.‘No, you’re not.’
‘Don’t go soft on me,’ I murmur, fingers sliding down the centre of his chest.
His blue eyes flick up.‘You’ll know when I get soft,’ he says, voice dark and unhurried.Then he shifts, pressing against me fully, and I feel the hard line of him against my entrance.My whole body lights up like someone flipped a switch.
I go still – for a second.Barely even a beat.But he notices.Of course he does.
‘Too much?’he asks, quieter now.
‘No,’ I say, breath catching.‘Just … damn.’
His mouth curves.‘That’s the Google review I was hoping for.’
‘You’re arrogant,’ I breathe, my fingers trailing lower until they close around his length.‘It’s offensive.’
‘You’re still touching me.’
‘I’m being polite.’
He grins wickedly, pulling away and dipping his head between my thighs.‘You’re going to be louder than polite in about five minutes.’
I gasp as his tongue slides between my legs.
‘Only five?’I tease.
He pulls back to look up at me from between my thighs, his lips glistening and curved in that maddening smirk.
‘You want to start a timer?’
I open my mouth to answer – something clever, something smug –
but the second his tongue moves again, all coherent thought detonates.
My hips jerk, my hands fist the sheets, and I let out a sound that I will later pretend was a hiccup or a cough, anything other than a needy, wrecked moan.
He hums, satisfied, and that hum vibrates through me.My legs start to tremble.
‘I hate you,’ I whisper, because it’s the only sentence I have access to.
He doesn’t even look up this time.‘You say the nicest things.’
