He swore under his breath and gripped the back of her neck to pull her into a hard kiss.
She continued to stroke him, feeling her low belly turn liquid hot at the soft moans escaping his throat while he consumed her mouth. He hadn’t kissed her so deeply, so desperately, so absolutely, since before their breakup. The totality of it—his tongue sliding, lips sucking, thumbs stroking her jaw—narrowed the world to the points where they touched. And suddenly, a kiss was not enough. She ached for him in every cell of her body.
She broke loose with a gasp and pulled him closer with her hand still gripping the nowveryhard length of him. “If you’re not inside me in the next ten seconds, I might die,” she desperately panted.
The consumed lust on his flushed face parted ways for a wickedly pleased grin to curl his lips. “Now who’s being dramatic?”
“I learned from the best.”
He kneeled on the mattress between her legs and slid his hands up her thighs. He kept going, dragging his callused palms up over the swell of her hips and the indent of her waist, gathering her dress along the way until he peeled it over her head and tossed it aside. Then he stared at her with a heat in his eyes that turned her into liquid gold. He looked the way she had felt moments before when she’d been unable to tolerate not touching his bare skin, except that where she had thrown herself at him, he held back.
“You know you can touch me now,” she said. “No more infractions.”
One side of his mouth slightly curved up while the rest of his face stayed taut in focus like he was making a very difficult decision. “I know. I just can’t decide where to start.”
She nearly burst into flames. The thought that access to her body overwhelmed him left her feeling like a goddess again. She gave him a devilish grin and shoved her fingers into her bra cups to yank them down. “How about you start with your favorite part, then?”
His eyes grew wide at the sight of her breasts pushed up and together, her nipples hard peaks. He leaned forward like he was under a spell. “Every part of you is my favorite,” he muttered into her neck before he kissed a trail to her chest. She arched into him with a gasp when he took one of her nipples into his mouth. Her hand fisted into his hair. His hands circled to her back to undo her bra’s clasp, and when her chest tumbled free, he gently pushed her down onto her back.
He looked down at her sprawled on the bed, drinking her in. “You are…” he said in a reverent tone that made her feel radiant under his gaze. The way he left his thought unfinishedsaid not that he didn’t know the right word, but that there was no apt description.
“So are you,” Olivia said, and sat up to reach for him.
He crawled over her, their lips locked again, as they moved up the bed and threw back the sheets. Olivia’s head landed against the pillows, and he worked his mouth down her neck to her chest again. He buried his face between her breasts, kissing and sucking and moaning in appreciation.
Olivia quietly laughed and tangled her fingers in his hair. She tugged on it to pull his face up. “You sure they’re not your favorite?”
He gave her a lopsided, drunk grin that was still white hot and completely disarming. Then he moved his lips to her belly and kissed his way down to her thighs. The soft scratch of his jaw sent her spiraling. It brought her back to the pantry, the last time she’d felt his mouth on her, when it hadn’t lasted nearly long enough. Now the pressure between her legs, the ache, had her ready to burst.
“Please,” she heard herself whimper.
Chuck paused what he was doing to look up at her with hooded eyes. “You make that word sound so goddamn hot,” he said with a dark grin.
Olivia could barely stand the absence of his mouth, but the greedy spark in his eye had her begging for multiple reasons now. “Please,” she breathed again, and watched his grin grow bigger. “Please, please, please.”
He obliged and slipped her underwear off. Then he spread her legs and pressed his lips to where her pulse furiously throbbed between her thighs. She gasped and fisted the sheets at her sides. Her hips canted into him, and she was gone. Lost to the haze of his skilled fingers circling and gliding, his tonguesinking in and stroking. It was perfect and relentless and made her feel like her body wasn’t capable of absorbing anything more for a single second longer but then somehow kept going. She gasped out some unintelligible combination of his name and swear words over and over as she tugged at the sheets and his hair. In the seconds before she lost herself completely, she looked down and made eye contact with him, because she wanted him to know exactly what he was capable of. What he did to her. She saw a dark glint in his eye and a grin on his wet lips.
He knew, of course he did.
A hard cry ripped out of her mouth when she came. A pent-up need escaping in the hot rush of pounding waves. She exploded over and over, fizzling into oblivion all because of him.
She was a pile of bones afterward. Useless. And she knew just as well that it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. She could hardly open her eyes for all the dopamine flooding through her brain. She felt his weight shift and the warmth of his body move over her.
“I swear, the sounds you make could kill me,” he whispered in her ear like he would enjoy the death.
A weak laugh burbled out of her mouth. She still hadn’t opened her eyes.
“That one too,” he purred, and she heard the smile in his voice.
He lay beside her and slowly smoothed his hand over all her curves, her peaks and valleys that had gone untouched by him for too long. She felt him hard and heavy pressing into her hip, but he knew the precise timing of every move. He knew how long to let her recover, to let her breathe, to let all the tightnerves in her body relax and prepare to swell up again and make the second act enjoyable for them both.
When she found the strength, she turned her head and softly smiled at him.
He smiled back, taking the cue. Then he rolled on top of her and sank his lips into her neck. He took her wrists and held her arms above her head as he tortured her with his mouth, kissing and nipping and grazing his teeth.
“You’re so perfect, Olivia,” he growled into her flushed skin. “Being in that house with you and unable to touch you was the worst kind of torture. I can’t be near you if I can’t touch you.” He palmed one of her breasts and twirled his tongue around her nipple again. “Every part of you is so beautiful. So perfect.”
Lost in his words, she found his hand in the pillows up above them and laced her fingers between his. Somehow that act felt more intimate than everywhere else they were touching. He moved his other hand between her legs and slipped a finger inside her. She sucked in a sharp breath and felt her body deliciously clench around him.