Chapter 28
Cecilia
I unlock my front door like I do after every date, but instead of turning around and kissing him before opening the door, I open the door first, then face him.
“Do you want to come in?” I force myself to maintain eye contact. I need him to see how much I want this. I suspect he’s been holding back physically because he doesn’t want to rush me, but I am done with waiting.
“I’d love to,” he says with a wolfish grin. It’s not wolfish in a scary sense, more predatorial. He’s ready to pounce.
With his palm on the small of my back, he leads me in.
“Is Gracie home?” His voice is low, matching his hooded eyes.
“She’s not here. She won’t be back until late.”Because I asked her not to be. Because I planned this.
I continue to my bedroom, but he redirects me to the couch.
“Why not my bedroom?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious. Have I read this wrong? Does he not want me like that? We goon dates and kiss, but he’s never tried to make a move. I start to redden with embarrassment.
“Sunshine, if we go to your room, to your bed, I won’t be able to resist you. And I want to do this right. To be a gentleman. I’m not going to sleep with you yet, despite every fiber of my being begging to.” He pleads with me to understand. His voice raw with need and restraint. “Your bed would be too much of a temptation. I’m trying to be a better man.”
“Oh,” I whisper, stunned silent for a moment. “So, we’re not going to kiss on the couch? I can turn on a movie or somethi–”
I’m cut off by his mouth viciously attacking mine. He’s relentless. His tongue parts my lips and duels with mine. Every nerve in my body lights up. I’m on fire.
I wrap my arms around his neck and scrape my fingers through the buzzed hair, loving the feeling of the poky strands. He groans into my mouth and continues his assault.
He lifts my butt, and I take the hint, wrapping my legs around him. He walks to the couch with me hanging on him like a monkey. He sits down, and I’m sitting on top of him. Still kissing him. I lift my skirt enough to allow me to move my knees so I’m straddling him.
I pull back, desperate for oxygen, despite not wanting to break the contact.
He takes the opportunity to trail his lips down my neck. Licking, sucking,biting. I can’t stop the moans from escaping me. Can’t stop the trembles rolling through my body.
My hips move of their own accord. Grinding into the hardness between my thighs. Pressing my core onto him.
Just like at the club, he uses one hand to move my hips, controlling the pace. Controlling the friction. I’m blinded with every pass.
His other hand runs through my loose waves then grips them at the base of my skull, pulling my head back, causing me to arch my back.
He licks around my right nipple though my top. Despite the fabric barrier, I can feel him scorching my skin.
He continues guiding my hips on his, continues meeting my movement, grinding into me.
Then, he bites my nipple. And it’s euphoric. I groan uncontrollably.
He growls in response, and tightens his grip, pulling me closer.
I reach to take off his shirt, needing to see him. Needing to feel his skin on mine.
When I pull at the neckline, he separates just enough to whip it off.
And reveals his tattoos.
His entire torso is covered in intricate ink. It’s mesmerizing. I want to trace every pattern, every shape, every word etched into his skin. I want to trace them with my tongue.
“Fuck, sunshine. Look away. Another second of you eye fucking me, then being on the couch won’t stop me from taking you.” His plead comes out a demand. Instead of begging me, he’s commanding me.
I look down and lift the bottom of my blouse, ready to shed it, when he grabs my wrists, stilling me.
