“I’m gonna need to see that.” His mouth crashes into mine, hot and heavy, and I open for him without a fight.
His hands slip under my shirt, rough palms skating up my ribs, inching slowly as if he’s relearning my body. When his thumbs brush the bottom edges of my bra, I gasp, arching into him, needing more.
“Let me help,” I whisper, fumbling with the hem of my shirt.
“That’s my job,” he says.
“Then do it.”
He draws back, and I miss his lips immediately. As if he’s testing my willpower, a mischievous smile crosses his face and he grabs the bottom of my shirt, sliding it up my body and over my head.
His eyes darken, taking me in. “Jesus, Laney.”
I would normally be self-conscious from the light stretch marks on my tummy from Leia, but with the way he’s looking at me, there’s no room for it. I don’t need to cover myself because he loves me regardless of my post-baby body.
My hands run down his golden skin and taut muscles that I remember too well. He was all man seven years ago, but this feels different for some reason I can’t explain.
His mouth returns to mine, more frantic, and his hand cups the back of my neck, holding me to him. I’m not complaining. I just want to feel him against me.
I slide my hand inside his jeans, and the low groan that escapes him sends heat pooling low in my belly. “Laney.”
I bite his jaw. “Is there a problem?” I laugh.
“Do you want to play games?”
I shrug, giving him a flirtatious grin.
His hands hook into my pants, dragging them and my underwear down my legs before tossing them over his shoulder. Again, his gaze flows down my body, slow like honey, and the heat in his eyes undoes any control I have.
“Are you just going to look?”
He drops to his knees. “Hell no.” His hands grip my thighs, spreading me open.
My whole body jerks with the first swipe of his tongue. He glances up at me—gauging my reaction or purposely teasing me, I can’t be sure.
“I’ll repay you when I’m on my knees.”
He chuckles and buries his head between my legs. Bennett groans against my core, tongue teasing, tasting, ruining me for anyone else.
“B,” I whisper, my fingers weaving through his hair, clinging tightly, pushing him in, on the cusp of coming.
He slides back and looks at me, chin glistening. “Say it again.”
“B, more. Please, I’m so close.”
As if he wants to take me to the edge, he teases my entrance with his fingers, not ever dipping in more than an inch as he sucks my clit.
“Oh shit,” I say.
I come apart embarrassingly fast, but he doesn’t stop. Not even when I gasp and tremble and try to close my thighs. He holds me there, drawing it out, savoring every last second.
“You taste so damn good.” He rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes feral.
“That was so?—”
He doesn’t let me finish. He grips my hips, dragging me to the edge of the table. “I’m gonna be honest, it’s been a long time for me…” He looks shy, cheeks pink.
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t forget how. You definitely didn’t forget how to go down on me.” I wrap my legs around his waist, yanking him to me. “Condom?”
