Reckless Abandon

Our mouths move as one, kissing and licking. The cold air is no longer an issue, as our bodies are hot from arousal. I whirl us around toward the front door of the building. Our bodies still connected, he tightens his hold on my face, refusing to break the connection. I remove my hands from him to rustle through my bag, searching for my keys. I give up for a second when his kiss gets impossibly deep, which then reminds me why I so desperately want to take this party of two inside.

Keys in hand, I reach over and blindly navigate the metal into the lock and open the door. Asher spins us around and uses his back to push open the door and pulls me into the hallway. When we are inside, he slams my body up against the wall. He releases the buttons to open my coat and weaving his arms around my waist, pulling my body up against his. When his groin connects with mine I gasp and start fumbling for the keys again.

I release my mouth from his kiss and look down at the keys to find the one that will unlock my front door. My arm has to bend at an awkward angel as I try to unlock it. When he begins to gently suck on my neck I almost drop the key ring.

Finally, the key is in the lock and we hear the telltale click.

“Thank, Christ. I need you inside . . . now.” His words are hot and harsh on my neck.

Asher kicks the front door closed and pushes my coat off my shoulders. His hands lace through my hair again as I back up and guide him toward the couch.

I pull back from Asher, and look back into those golden eyes. His fingers are frozen to the touch. Taking his two hands in my own, I lift them to my lips and gently blow hot breaths onto them to warm them. His breath hitches with each blow, so I do it a few more times for good measure.

When I am sure his fingers are nice and warm, I lift my hands up to touch him in a way I’ve been dying to for months. My palms skim over his strong, broad shoulders, passing over the blades along with the tuxedo jacket. I watch it fall to the floor.

With sultry fingers, I unbutton his shirt. With each one that comes undone, a hint of the velvety, bronzed skin of his taut stomach peeks out; I have to lean forward and run my tongue over it. Delicious.

Asher hisses as my palms join my tongue and his shirt, too, makes its way to the floor. Next, I unbutton the top button of his pants and slowly lower the zipper.

My heart is beating fast and my core begins to throb. I know how powerful it feels to have him inside me and I am thirsty for that feeling again.

My hand skims the elastic of his boxer briefs and his stomach pulls in at the touch. Thick, hard want is pushing through the fabric of his pants so I do what I can to relieve it.

I reach in and grab him.

“Baby, that feels so good. You, touching me . . . it’s . . . everything.” His are words breathy and filled with immediate need. I pump my hand up and down the hard shaft and let my thumb roll over the sensitive tip. My mouth finds his again, our kisses hot and wet. He pulls me in and holds me tight as I continue to touch and caress him.

Asher’s hands reach around the back of my dress and slowly pull down the zipper. When it hits my lower back, the dress opens up and starts to fall down my body, pooling at my ankles. Standing in a strapless bra and nothing else, I lean closer and let his shaft touch the burning skin of my belly.

“No underwear?” he murmurs in between kisses.

“Panty lines.”

“Lucky boy,” he says with a laugh and it reminds me of a time he said it before when we were on a speedboat in Capri. He flicks the clasp of my strapless bra leaving me completely naked and positively burning with lust and need to have him deep inside me.

Pushing him back onto the chesterfield, I stand above him, looking down at the man who knows my sins and my faults, yet wants to be with me just as I am.

His body takes over most of the sofa, with his muscular thighs parted and his beautiful chest rising and falling in anticipation. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his wallet, takes out a gold packet and places it on the cushion beside him. He then raises his hips and strips down. He is marvelous, magnificent really, and straining for me.

Jeannine Colette's books