She cocks her head at me. “You have another dog?”
“At home, yeah.” Though there’s no point in telling her that I most likely wasn’t calling out for my dog in my dream. I was dreaming of being a child again, the day my mum gave me away. But lying here in this beautiful woman’s bed is no place to bring up tragedies.
“You must be excited to go back home to him,” she says, and though she’s hiding it, I can hear the trace of disappointment in her voice. Everything is always more clear in the dark.
I reach for her face, pulling her closer to me. “What I am is determined to make these last few days count,” I tell her as I kiss her softly at the edge of her mouth. “I’m far from done with you.”
If anything, Kayla has unlocked a part of me I rarely, if ever, tap into. It’s been months since I last slept with anyone, and back then it was some bird I picked up at the bar. I was drunk and in a bad place—the two are mutual with each other—and feeling sorry for myself. I shagged the chick in the bathroom, and that was that. Before that, I can’t remember. Once I’d decided to quit the meaningless one-night stands, sex was put on the back burner.
Now, I am burning, raging like an inferno, and long overdue. When I showed up at her door, I wasn’t sure how she was going to take things, but I knew it was time to stop pretending that she hadn’t gotten to me, that I didn’t want to have her in whatever way I could.
And, bloody hell, she was ready for whatever I gave her. The words that came out of her mouth did my head in, turned me upside down, as if I wasn’t already letting the lust run away with me.
I want more. I want her every day, all the time, until I leave.
“I’m not done with you either,” she says throatily, and the tone makes my cock stiffen, hot and thick and straining against the sheets. Her lips open against mine, and I slide my tongue in, tasting her sweet, wicked little mouth.
I need to fuck her, messy, hot, and wild. I want her body, her touch, her light to replace all the darkness that creeps into my dreams.
“Oh, you gorgeous thing,” I murmur, running the pad of my thumb over her peaked nipple as she arches back, her body begging for more. “I’ll go mad if I can’t get inside you.”
She looks up at me, and in the dim light, I see her coy smile. “I like driving men mad.”
“I know you do, love. But have some pity on me. It’s been a while.”
She jerks her head in surprise. “Really?”
“Really. So have some compassion and spread your fucking legs.”
“Oh no,” she says, putting her hand on my chest and pushing me back. “You lie back. You spread your fucking legs.”
I cock a brow. “What?”
“Believe me,” she says saucily, pushing me flat on my back. “You want this.”
She straddles me, and I wish she was facing the window so I can see those fantastic tits more clearly. “Do you have a condom?” I ask, my voice croaking with need.
“Yes, for later,” she says and keeps moving back until she’s at my knees. “You won’t want one now.” She rakes her nails over the hard planes of my stomach, my abs tensing from the abrasion, before she settles in between my legs.
My cock juts straight up, nearly obscuring her from my view. I prop one arm beneath my head, my other hand sinking into her hair, wrapping the silky strands around my fingers.
She takes my length in her hand, and my blood pulses against her palm. The feeling is nearly too much to bear. Her mouth opens, those lush lips sliding over the tip, pushing me into a flurry of lust that sends my eyes back into my skull. Fuck she’s good, sliding her tongue over the veins, over every hardened ridge, like she can’t get enough, like I’m a fucking ice cream cone on a hot day.