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Her lips are soft and sweet with a hint of chocolate left over from dessert. I swipe my tongue against her mouth, and she easily opens for me, giving me a better taste.

We devour each other as we explore with our mouths and hands, going every which way until we are both panting. I slam her harder against the door and—shit, what am I thinking?

This is my Lettie. I pull back two inches and sweep my eyes down her body to ensure she’s okay. Was I too rough with her? Fuck. I draw my fingers to my face and swipe them down my beard.

“I’m not fragile,” she says, reading my mind.

“Okay,” I concede, because she’s one of the strongest people I know.

She places her hands on her hips, which accentuates her breasts perfectly. “I’m not,” she repeats, her voice firm and sassy.

“I know, baby. I just don’t want to hurt you,” I admit. I’m not sure what she’s comfortable with yet, and I don’t want to misstep with her and make anything worse.

Maybe we should slow down? I’ve waited this long for her. I can wait longer.

“You can’t. You won’t,” she breathes out. “I trust you.”

Damn. Those three little words at the end are the biggest turn-on. “Do what you want.”

Nope. I was wrong. That last sentence was instead.

I push her up against the door again and clasp both hands on her cheeks, leaning in for a deep kiss that neither of us breaks.

“Please,” she begs for more.

“Bedroom?” I say, but it’s more a question than a demand.

“Couch,” she pants. “It’s closer.”

I nod, and we silently move from my doorway over to the living room couch, which is roughly fifteen steps away, still glued together.

We stumble onto the couch, her lap on top of me. I graze my hands down her body, enjoying the warmth of her skin.

I spread light kisses on her shoulder, her neck, her ear, and anywhere I can reach, and then I plant a quick kiss on her lips before moving down to her chin and then back down to her neck.

I unsnap the top button of her cardigan, the top fabric breaking free.

“May I?” I ask, referring to the rest of her buttons.

“Please,” she whimpers.

I move down to the next button, my fingers pressing the buttons through the holes. I take my time until every single button pops open, and her sweater falls to the floor, leaving her in a thin white camisole.

I dip my mouth down to her shoulder, pressing light kisses to her collarbone until her tiny straps fall.

I push down the rest of her thin tank to her stomach and discover her nipples hard already.

“No bra?” I practically drool.

“Built in,” she wheezes as my fingers slide over her dusty pink nipples and pinch them.

I graze my mouth over them, kissing and sucking, taking my sweet time as my free hand explores her soft skin. My hand drops lower and lower until I land at the waistband of her jeans, and flip the button through the hole and unzip. I tug the jeans lower, and Lettie comes in with the assist, pulling everything off completely.

She’s bare and beautiful.

She lays on my couch with her hair a mess, her hazel eyes full of lust and need. A blush, the color of her hair, creeps upon her face.

I don’t want to make her uncomfortable or self-conscious, so like the gentleman I am, I tug off my shirt and drop my pants and boxers to the ground so we’re on the same playing field.