“Josh,” I whisper.
His pupils dilate even more.
“Yes, Gemma?”
“We did it.”
Then I can’t take it anymore, I lean forward and press my lips to his.
For a long moment he doesn’t move. He holds completely still as I take in the coolness of his mouth.
“Kiss me back,” I say.
Then, a dam inside him breaks.
He spins us around and shoves me against the apartment door. The thick wood rattles in the frame and vibrates against my back. Josh closes his mouth over mine. There isn’t any gentle coaxing or leisurely tasting. No. Not for Josh Lewenthal.
He bites my bottom lip, and when I gasp, he plunges in. His tongue licks at me, his teeth nip at me. He invades me. Never in my life have I experienced a kiss like this. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth and God help me I suck on it and try to pull him deeper.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders and lean into him. The way he’s kissing me, like he’s been waiting years to take my mouth, makes me feel disoriented and dizzy. I can’t tell up from down, I only know that I’m in Josh’s arms and he’s right in front of me.
He tastes just like I remember, like sweet longing, laughter, and promised pleasure. My whole body lights up and I moan at the sensations building in me. His mouth is soft and hard, smiling and insistent, gentle and demanding.
His fingers dig into my hips and I rock into his length. I cry out at the sparks that light in my core. He starts up a demanding rhythm, the pace of his mouth matching the rocking of his hips. I reach up and grasp the length of his hair and tug, so that I can have more of him. More of his kisses. More of his thrusting. More.
“More,” I say against his mouth. “More.”
The liquid ache spreading through me has centered in my core and it’s growing and growing. I rub myself over him and my entire body blazes in pleasure. I cry out.
That does it.
Josh swears and lowers me to the hardwood floor. I’m panting, my lips are swollen, my breasts are heavy and all I want is Josh to touch me everywhere. I ache for it. I ache for him.
He looks into my eyes and whatever he sees there makes him stop and stare.
“Don’t stop,” I tell him. Then, in case he needs encouragement, “I have lime Jell-O in the fridge if you need it.”
He lets out a laugh and the look in his eyes has shifted into one I recognize. It’s the same hungry, wanting look he wore the last time we were together on a hard floor.
“Not necessary,” he says.
Then he pushes me down and spreads me out beneath him. He moves to my feet and takes off my socks. He presses a kiss to each of my ankles, then he grasps my pants and tugs them down my legs. The fabric scrapes over my bare skin and I shiver at the fibers running over my legs. His hands circle my calves and he pulls my pants off. Then he trails his mouth up my calves, along my inner thighs and up to my panties.
I can’t help myself, I tilt up my hips. He spreads his hands over my hip bones and runs his fingers over me. The muscles inside me clench in response.
Then he takes my sweater and the cami underneath and pulls them gently over my head. I lean back to the hardwood, the coolness presses into my sensitized skin. I sprawl beneath him and luxuriate in the look in his eyes. It makes me feel wanton and beautiful.
I watch as he swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He’s…nervous?
Not possible.
I reach behind me and unlatch my bra. My breasts come free, and even though he claims he’s not a breast man, his eyes grow dark and heated. Then I move to my panties and ever so slowly I move them down my legs until I kick them off. I’m completely naked beneath him.
I’m flushed and wanting and there’s nothing more I need in the world than him to spread himself on top of me.
His eyes never leave me as he pulls off his shoes and socks, then his pants, and finally his shirt.
Goodness.
Everywhere that I’m soft, he’s hard. His shoulders are bulky, his chest and abs muscular and defined.
While I’m curvy and soft, he’s all long lines and strength. I pull in a breath. Only his boxers are still on and I can see him straining against them.
Then he slips them over his legs and he springs free.
I let out a sharp breath, then I hold open my arms, inviting Josh to the floor.
He gives me a different smile than I’ve ever seen him give anyone before. But I don’t have time to think about it because when he lowers his body over mine all thought leaves my mind.
I can only feel.
His knees nudge my legs apart, and I open for him. He kisses his way up my neck, across my chin and to my lips. When his mouth takes mine, he positions himself at my core. I tilt my hips up.
“Gemma,” he whispers into my mouth.
Then, he slides in.
I cry out and cling to his shoulders. I’ve never felt anything like this, never in my life. I clench around him and hang on as he starts to move.
My word.
Josh is inside me. He’s making love to me, he’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before.
Every time he thrusts, my entire body lights up and intense pleasure rides through me all the way from my head to my toes. I’m climbing closer and closer and closer. He’s pulled my legs around him and his hands are cupping my breasts, my shoulders, clasping my hands. He’s touching me everywhere, kissing me everywhere. I’m rocking with him, pulling him close. Then, I feel the moment he loses all control.
Because he grabs both my hands, holds me down, and thrusts into me fast and hard. So hard that I toss my head back and forth and cling to him. All I can do is hang on, because I’m almost there. I’ve had a million little explosions of pleasure, and they’re all building and building, then Josh shouts my name and pulls me closer and I can feel him losing himself inside me. He’s thick and hot and he’s saying my name over and over. And when he does, everything inside me unravels.
I’m lost.
I’m completely lost in him.
Me and Josh Lewenthal, making love on the floor.