“One month.” He smiled, and leaned down for a kiss.
I think he meant for the kiss to be quick, but I didn’t really give him a choice in the matter. I looped my arms around his neck to keep him down at my level, and pressed my lips more firmly against his. He hummed lightly, and the vibrations tingled my lips. His hand curled around my ribcage, and I wanted it higher, farther in. I wanted him touching me everywhere.
When he was taking too long, I opened my mouth and traced the seam of his lips with my tongue. He let me in, and the taste of him was as addicting as always. With each brush of his tongue against mine, I felt more certain.
I pulled my arms down from his neck, and slipped a hand underneath his shirt, pressing my fingertips into his back. His hands remained in safe places, my ribs and my neck, but I felt them twitch and tighten slightly at the skin to skin contact.
He kept kissing me… slowly, safely.
I slipped my other hand beneath his shirt, feeling the ridges of his abs, up to his chest. I hoped he would take the hint and move his own hand accordingly.
He didn’t.
Frustrated, I shifted him slightly until my bed pressed at the back of his knees and then I pushed. He sank on to the bed, and I wasted no time climbing on to his lap, pressing against him in much the same way I had that first night we’d almost had sex.
“Bliss,” He whispered. It was almost a warning, but not quite there yet.
I should probably tell him what I wanted, but the way he was kissing me, or more aptly the way he wasn’t kissing me made me feel unsure, desperate. He still wanted me. It told myself that. And I believed it. Mostly. I just needed a little more reassurance.
I pulled back, and waited for his eyes to open, for him to watch me. When his eyes met mine, they were a bit too clear, too focused for my liking. I reached down and grabbed the hem of my dress. He made a noise in his throat when I started pulling it up, but I didn’t stop until I had it up and over my head. At first his eyes stayed resolutely on mine, but when I leaned forward, taking care to brush my chest against his, he looked down.
His intake of breath was exactly what I’d been looking for.
The strapless black bra was so tight that I had possibly the best cleavage I had ever or will ever have. And the panties, well, you could barely call them that.
“Bliss,” This time, there definitely was a warning tone. “You’re overestimating my self-control.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I estimated your control perfectly.”
I leaned forward until I was pressed tightly against his hips. My lips hovered over his, waiting for him to kiss me. I was done being on the offensive. It was his turn to come to me.
As always, the anticipation alone was enough to do me in. His gaze darted between my eyes and my mouth, and now that I was down to only lingerie, his hands met my skin no matter where he put them. One was currently scalding my lower back, and other was fisted in my hair. I rocked my hips against him, and his hand in my hair tightened.
“Bliss.” His response was choked, like he was in pain.
I smiled. This was kind of fun.
“Garrick,” I returned, eyes wide and as innocent as I could make them.
“This is the opposite of slow.”
I exhaled, swaying forward so that my bottom lip barely grazed his. I rubbed against him, grinding at the slowest pace I could. I said, “I think we’ve gone slow enough.”
The arm at my back pulled me in more, until my chest pressed against his. He still had a shirt on. I wanted it gone.
“What does that mean?” Ah, there was that look I loved—dark, a bit unfocused.
“It means,” I said as my hands found the bottom of his shirt, “That I’m done going slow.”
I pulled, and his arms followed automatically, allowing me to pull the shirt over his head before his hands went right back into their previous positions. Our chests met, skin sliding against skin, and he groaned. He said, “I’m going to need you to be very clear about what you’re saying right now, Bliss.”
All right, it was time to just say it. And no euphemisms like beast with two backs or horizontal tango or anything ridiculous. Sex. If I was going to have it, I could sure as hell say it. I leaned in and kissed him for courage. To hell with making him come to me. That took too long. When I pulled back, his lips tried to follow. I appeased him with another quick kiss and said, “Make love to me?”
Everything about him tensed—his hands on me, his gorgeous face, and his body beneath mine.
“Bliss, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do for me.”
“What about tonight has felt like I was being forced to do anything? In fact, I feel a little like I’m forcing you.”
His lips crushed against mine—teeth and tongues and heat. It was just enough to make me shake with want, and then it was over.