Before I could stop myself, I dipped my head and caught her mouth. It was meant to be gentle. It didn’t stay that way.
Her mouth opened hastily, her tongue snaking out to tangle with mine. I groaned as her fingers threaded into the back of my hair and she slanted her head, taking me deeper.
A kiss wasn’t taking? Right?
Now, if I stripped her naked and buried myself inside her, that would be a little different. I wanted her fiercely, but I had the strength to control myself.
At least that’s what I’d told myself—until she hooked her leg around my hip and ground against me.
“Fuck,” I bit out.
I did not have the strength for that.
“Clare, wait,” I mumbled.
She didn’t. She rolled to the side, pulling me with her until she was straddling my hips. Her mouth disappeared but only long enough for her to peel her pale-purple sweater over her head and toss it off the side of the bed.
Her round breasts thrust toward me as she reached around to undo the hook at her back.
If she got that bra off, I was done for. I would be inside her without any further conversation or consideration.
Entire fucking armies didn’t have that kind of strength.
“Jesus. Wait.” He gripped my shoulders to still me, but his eyes drifted down to my chest.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, wiggling in his grasp.
Something had happened inside me when his lips had met mine. A hunger I hadn’t felt in years had surged through me.
Passion. Longing. Desire.
I could barely remember a time when I’d wanted Walt to touch me.
But, with a single taste, I needed Heath—everywhere.
His mouth.
His fingers.
His length, swelling between my legs as his eyes focused on my nipples, which were peaking beneath the thin, white cotton of my bra.
I wished it had been something sexier. Something deserving of his appraisal. Maybe one of those little nighties hanging in the closet. But, if he noticed my bra at all, he didn’t let on. His eyes were dark, and his fingers bit into the flesh of my shoulders as if he were clinging to the edge of self-control.
An edge I desperately needed him to let go of.
I folded down, mumbling against his lips, “Heath, please.”
As I circled my hips over his cock, he groaned, “You’re killing me here.”
“Ask me the question,” I whispered, palming either side of his face before taking his mouth again.
His hands slid down to my hips, where he rocked me in his lap. “What question?”
Moving my assault from his mouth to his neck, I traced my tongue up to his ear and then prompted, “What do you need, Clare?” punctuating it by raking my teeth over his earlobe.
His entire body tensed as he moaned his approval with a curse. I glided my hands down to the waistband on his jeans, popping open the button before tugging at the hem of his T-shirt. His arms lifted as I dragged it over his head.
Heat pooled between my legs as his shirt joined mine on the floor.
Heath was beautiful. All raw power and defined muscle. But it was just window dressing for the man hiding inside.
Gentle hands. Kind heart. Gorgeous smile.
My nipples tingled as I traced my finger down the soft, blond trail of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his boxers.
He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. “Clare,” he exhaled.
I kissed over his heart. “Ask me.”
His eyes popped open, uncertainty still lingering in his gaze. “This is a bad—”
I didn’t allow him to finish before I reached back and unfastened my bra, letting it fall down my arms.
His fiery gaze locked on my chest.
“Jesus,” he cursed, but his hands moved to palm my breasts.
My head fell back and my mouth slacked open as sparks fired to my clit, adding to the electricity already roaring within me. “Yes,” I cried, rocking against him.
Sitting all the way up, he swayed me backward in his arms and sucked my nipple between his lips.
I balanced one hand on his thigh, the other threading into his hair, holding him close as he devoured my breast. His tongue swirled and his teeth nipped, growls rumbling in his throat.
He thrust a hand down the back of my jeans, kneading my ass as he ground me against his hard length.
God, I needed him inside me.
“Ask me,” I ordered, giving his hair a sharp tug.
“What do you need, Clare?” he mumbled against my chest.
I smiled victoriously. “You.”
His eyes lifted, an inferno brewing within as he finally gave me the only permission I would ever need. “Then take it.”
I was off the bed, stripping my pants off, before the final syllable had even cleared his lips. He did the same, peeling out of his denim and his boxers. His hand went to his thick cock, stroking as I climbed back onto the bed and straddled him.
His hand caught my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “This is all you, babe. But, just so you know, there is not one thing I don’t want from you.”