She should have been sensible, leave the glass on the freaking table, and sit. She had been sensible all day after all, she could push it a little longer.
Screw sensible.
She did leave the glass on the table, but then stepped between his legs, close enough for his heat to roll over her like a secret, seeping through her clothes and settling low.
Her breath hitched.
Want. Need. The painful ache of restraint.
His gaze lifted, slow, dragging up her body like a touch. His expression gave nothing away, but the heat in his eyes? That saideverything she needed to know right now. Then his hand slid up her thigh, a single, searing path along the outside. “I wasn’t implying this, either,” he said, voice a promise whispered in the dark.
She wanted his hands on her. She wanted his mouth. She wanted sweaty and dirty. Her hands settled on his shoulders, grounding herself. “What if I am?”
“If that’s the case...”
He held her hips in both hands and guided her into his lap, so she was straddling him. She settled, breath shallow, feeling the tension thrumming under his skin like. She leaned in, pulses racing. “What if I want you?”
His hands tightened. “Then you have all of me.”
Her hips responded before thought could catch up, grinding into the solid length of him beneath her. His inhale was a shuddering sound between them, hot and helpless.
She kissed him.
Not softly, even less cautiously, but fierce and hungry as every silenced want clawed its way to the surface and finally broke free. Her fingers tangled in his hair, desperate to take all she could. His mouth crashed into hers with the heat of every moment they’d denied, like he knew this would destroy them and still wanted more, wanted everything.
He slipped his hands under her sweater, found skin. “You keep grinding on me like that,” he whispered, teeth grazing her jaw, “and I’ll bend you over the nearest surface until you’re dripping and mine.”
Beth shuddered from the thrill that pulsed between her legs at the promise, at the threat in his voice. Her hips rolled harder against his dick with a need that stole her breath and made him groan low, the sound vibrating through her chest as his hands gripped her waist, holding her still for one heart-stopping moment.
Then his mouth was on hers again. Hotter. Messier. All heat and hunger. One hand fisted in her sweater, yanking it up, baring her to the cool air and the burn of his touch. “You’re even softer than I imagined,” he murmured, lips grazing her collarbone, “Your heart’s racing. You smell like rain and longing, and it’s tearing me apart.”
He reached behind her, unclasped her bra, and let it fall away and his mouth, his glorious mouth, brushed her nipple. Soft,almost taunting, before his teeth caught it in a light bite that made her jolt. He soothed the sting with his tongue, unhurried, then closed his full mouth around her. She arched into him shamelessly, chasing the flick of his tongue and the pull of his mouth like her sanity wasn’t a thing she needed anymore.
His grip on her back was firm while his other hand moved with calculated pressure, rolling her nipple between his fingers like he ruled the rhythm of her body. Her nails clawed at his shoulders, begging without words. And he answered without hesitation. He stood in one motion, lifting her, her legs wrapping tight around his waist as his mouth found hers again. “Bedroom?” he asked, voice low and ragged against her jaw.
She nodded, breathless.
He took her there, laid her down gently, and such deliberate care screamed of how tight he was holding his control. She could feel the tension coiled tight beneath his skin, barely restrained. It was dangerous. And heaven, it made her ache for all of it. But not onhisterms. Not when she was half-naked, and he was still fully dressed like he had time to think.
She pulled at his shirt. “Off.”
He exhaled through his nose, like holding back was costing him air, but when he reached for the first button, she grabbed his hands and pushed them away, and flipped their position so she was straddling him again. “I will do the touching now.”
His fingers curled into fists, and his chest rose with one slow, ragged breath. “Cruel woman.”
She chuckled and sat up, took her sweet time with his buttons, and watched the strain pull tight across his body. He was suffering, beautifully, for her. Not moving. Not helping. Letting her drag it out like a game he couldn’t win and wouldn’t dare interrupt. Underneath cotton, she found smooth golden skin, hard lines of muscle, and the flex of restraint under her fingertips. Every inch she revealed made her want to taste it.
So she did.
A kiss at his sternum. Another, lower. Her mouth dragged over his pecs as her fingers worked the last buttons free. His abs tightened beneath her touch, his breath sharp and uneven.
When the shirt hit the floor, her hands were already at his jeans. “These too.”
He stood and shoved them down, underwear with them.
And holy hell.
He stood in front of her naked, hard, and hungry. There was nothing gentle in his eyes. His jaw was tight. His eyes dark with craving. “I wish you could feel what you’re doing to me,” he said, his voice rough enough to be menacing.
