“Seems like that would be all the more reason to take it easy.”
I arch a brow at him. “And who says we can’t take it easy?”
“Really?”
I grind my hips against his, needing the closeness of him, needing to feel his skin against mine, knowing that he wants me, that helovesme. I can already feel him stiffening between my legs, his thighs trapped between mine. I grin down at him as I zipper my body to his, letting my lips graze his cheek, his jaw, lingering at his throat as I press fevered kisses there.
“Show me how much you love me,” I murmur.
His head falls back as I kiss along his neck. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“There’s literal blood on your top.”
“Then take it off me,” I tell him.
I feel his fingers at the hem of my sweater, and then he’s ever so gently easing it up and over my head, careful to maneuver my injured arm through the torn sleeve before he tosses the entire thing onto the floor behind us.
“God, Abby,” he hums, leaning in to press his lips to my breasts, which spill over my bra. “You’re too fucking pretty.” He teases the swell with his tongue, looking up to meet my eyes. “All of you is.”
I take in the sight of his dark eyes, which are staring up at me with an intensity that makes me shiver, and run my fingers through his soft brown hair before tugging it gently to pull his head back so I can lean in and kiss him again. His hands find my hips to squeeze, rocking me against his growing erection as his tongue slides through my mouth.
I have to maneuver to grab at his T-shirt with my non-injured arm, but he leans forward to accommodate me when I start to tug it off him, revealing the hard plane of his sculpted chest, which I can’t help but run my fingers over, relishing in his firm skin.
“You’re pretty too,” I tell him.
My fingers slide down to the button of his jeans, popping it open deftly and teasing the zipper down until I can reach inside to palm his hard cock. He groans at the contact, his head falling back against the couch as his lips part, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow before he looks back at me dazedly.
“Need you naked,” he murmurs, his hands tugging at my jeans.
I help him unbutton them just before he rolls them down my legs, the pair of us shuffling on the couch to try to rid me of them as he lifts his hips to do the same. My underwear is already damp, and I suck in a breath when he slides his hand between my legs to confirm this.
“Mm, already wet for me,” he practically purrs. “You want this cock, baby?”
I shudder at the question. I’ll never admit that the nickname sort of does it for me, especially when we’re like this. I nod back at him instead, lifting up on my knees when he helps roll my underwear down my legs to leave me naked from the waist down.
I’m already shoving at his boxer briefs to try to free him, but suddenly his hands are on my wrists to pull them away, bringing one palm to his mouth to press a kiss there. “Don’t have condoms in here.”
“Do we need one?”
His eyes widen. “What?”
“I just mean…I’m on birth control, and my last panel was negative, so…”
“Mine too,” he breathes.
“So…I mean, if you wanted—”
“If you think there’s any chance that I don’t want to fuck you raw, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Ha, coming.”
He barks out a laugh. “Abby Thompson. I’m rubbing off on you.”
“I’d like you to be,” I hum, reaching again for his underwear and yanking them down so his cock springs free.
If I tilt my hips, I can feel the hard length of him sliding between my wet folds, the fat head teasing my clit in the most delicious way, one that has me gasping for breath.