“Later?” Arden asks, ever so slowly wrapping his arm around my waist.
“Yes, Arden.” I look at his left eye, then his lips, then his right eye. “But first, I want you to fuck me.”
That’s all it takes for his self-control to shatter. He kisses me fiercely, unapologetically. Like a man starved who had been waiting for this for decades and now he gets to make a meal of it. Arden pushes me back until I’m against the counter and he lifts me so I’m sitting.
Opening my legs for him to stand between, I grip him to me as tightly as I can. We kiss like we were made for each other. His lips are soft against mine but firm in the way he commands me to open up. His tongue slides into my mouth and I welcome it against mine.
“We should really talk before,” he says breathlessly against my mouth. But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he pulls me impossibly closer, the warmth of his body radiating against me.
I nod against him, a giggle escaping my lips. He breathes it in, kissing me harder. Anything else I might’ve said disappeared into thin air. Our desire, his and mine, mixes until they combine.
His hands don’t hesitate as they roam my body. Like he’s been wanting this. Dreamed about it. Like he already knew the route he wanted to take, having mapped my body in his mind for years.
Reaching up and around, he grips the back of my bra at the clasp. He looks into my eyes as if asking for permission and it seems like my answering moan gives him all the permission he needs. He snaps the clasp open and I spill out. He catches my fall, his palms raised in prayer. I savor the touch of his skin on mine.
Arden kisses my lips once more before traveling down to my neck. He leaves beautifully sloppy kisses along my jaw, neck and collarbone. He keeps moving south as if traveling to a particular spot on my body. His lips hit my breast, and I roll my head back, my hair cascading onto the counter top.
Way too soon, his lips leave my body and I jolt up to see where he went. I’m met with a wash-board stomach and a chest that Adonis would be jealous of as Arden grips his shirt and pulls it over his head.
“You work out?” I ask, not even bothering to hide the breathlessness of my voice.
Arden chuckles, looking down at himself. “Nah, baby. This is all natural.”
I roll my eyes but Arden grips the back of my neck, not allowing me the overexaggerated movement. He pulls my face to within a centimeter of his.
“You gonna act like a brat even while I’m touching you here?” Arden puts his hand on the part of me that’s been aching ever since he walked in the door. Through the fabric, I’m clearly ready for him and anything he wants to give me. He rubs the spot and I fight the urge to roll my head back again, well, not fight because Arden wouldn’t let me move my head anyway.
“Maybe,” I say, because this teasing is driving us both absolutely insane in the best way possible. I want to take control, but I also love the way that Arden is playing with me. Not just with his fingers but with his words. The breathy way he’s panting. It’s like he’s about to burst just as much as I am.
Arden tips my head back so I’m looking up at him. “If you act like a brat, then you won’t get what you want.”
“You don’t know what I wa–” Before I can finish the thought, Arden drops to his knees, pulling the soaking fabric to the side. He takes a huge whiff and honestly, I could finish right then and there.
“Brats don’t get rewarded for bad behavior.” He looks up at me from the incredibly vulnerable position. From the words he’s saying, he seems to be in charge, but I know I’m truly the one calling the shots here. If I said stop, Arden would be six feet away apologizing immediately. It’s that safety and trust that I have in him that allows me to really lose control.
“Tell me what you want and maybe I’ll give it to you.” He nips at my right thigh, then my left. Each move brings him closer and closer to my center.
I groan, inching forward, bringing myself closer to his face. He breathes out a laugh and the sensation has me gripping the countertop for dear life.
“Words, Dani. Tell me.” He knows what I want but he’s making me say it.Smug bastard.
“Kiss me.”
He breathes against my core. “Where?”
I take a fistfull of his hair, pulling his gaze up to meet mine. “There. Now.” Arden’s smile is breathtaking as he takes the command in stride. He feels amazing and I can’t help but grip his hair tighter and tighter with every vibration of his tongue.
I’ll be honest, this isn’t what I envisioned happening when I had this idea. I thought he’d jump my bones in his bed or at the very least, the couch. But the fact that he couldn’t make it two steps into the apartment without devouring me is hot as hell.
Arden’s hands work their way up my body, grabbing and rubbing and gripping like a man reaching for a lifesaver. Within a few seconds, I’m losing my grip on reality as Arden works into me, faster and slower all at the same time.
He’s clearly experienced, but then again, I never claimed to be a virgin Mary either.
“Come on. Give it to me.” His breathy voice at my center sends me catapulting toward completion. “That’s right, baby. Give me all you got.” He grips me so tightly I'll surely have bruises tomorrow.
In the end, it’s Arden’s words that send me over the edge.
“Fuck, Arden, I—” Releasing his hair, I lean back on my elbows, my hair almost falling into the sink. But I couldn’t be bothered. The sound that escapes me can only be described as visceral. Arden continues working into me but the sensation is more than I can take. I push his head away.