Taking What's His(59)
“Yes.” She nodded, not breaking eye contact. “Very.”
“I’m the luckiest guy on the earth, then. Maybe the whole fucking universe. In all of time and space and continuum and—”
Laughing, she shook her head. “Oh, just shut up and kiss me already.”
Chapter Nineteen
Holt caught her mouth, deepening the kiss while reacquainting himself with her soft curves. Nothing stopped him from having her this time, and nothing stood between him and their happily ever after, so he planned to take his damn time. No matter how hard it might be. He didn’t want to miss a moment, a single caress, or moan, or sigh.
Not this time. Never again.
Her fingers flexed on his cheeks, and he softened his kiss. This wasn’t about rushing, or dominance, or anything but cementing their love for one another. And he didn’t want to ruin it by being too eager, or too fast, or too hard—
“Holt,” she whispered against his lips.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to die if you don’t take me. Stop thinking so much, and kiss me.” She curled her hands into his shirt. “Take what’s yours.”
His. All fucking his.
He melded his mouth to hers, shutting off his mind. She’d fallen for him because he was, well, him. He shouldn’t have to change a damn thing to make her stay in love with him, right? That’s what love was.
The person loved you for you—faults, good things, and all.
Slipping his hands under her ass, he cupped her and lifted her slightly so he could fit even better where he wanted to be. She wore a short dress, so all that separated him from what he needed was a thin strip of satin. With a twist of his wrist, he ripped it off, tossing the useless scrap over his shoulder. Her hips moved restlessly until he slid a finger inside her wet heat. Her tongue dueled with his as he pulled his finger out, and thrust two inside, crooking them just right.
Crying out, she broke off the kiss and arched her neck, her mouth in a delicious little O. “God, yes.”
“Nope.” Grinning, he latched onto her neck, biting with just enough pressure to sting. “Still just me.”
“Holt…” She rolled her hips, breaths coming out in little spurts. “I need you. Inside me. Now.”
“No.” He stepped back, letting her legs hit the floor. She collapsed against the door, her mouth pressed into a tight, perfect line. “Not yet.”
As she watched, he tugged his shirt over his head. She bit down on her plump lower lip—those lips he loved so damn much. Without glancing away, she gripped her dress and yanked it over her head, too. She only had on a bra and heels. It made him think of the other day, when she’d come to his house in a trench coat…and nothing else.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“Because you’re beautiful.” He gripped his belt tightly. “And I’ll never grow tired of looking at you.”
She blinked rapidly. “Holt…”
He swallowed hard, the empty pain he’d seen in her eyes still haunting him. “I have a lot to make up for, and today is only the start.” He undid his belt. “We have our whole lives.”
She smiled and undid her bra. “Oh, I plan to hold you to that. You can start by hurrying the hell up and getting over here…naked.”
He chuckled and dropped his pants. He headed toward her, his boxer briefs growing increasingly tight on his hard cock. Halfway there, he bent and picked up his belt, tossing it back and forth in his hands. “You know, you almost got your wish. But you forgot something.”
She rested against the door, hugging her unclasped bra to her chest. Her breaths quickened as she watched his hands. “What’s that?”
“I’m in charge.” He cradled the back of her neck possessively. “And I say when, and how, we fuck. No matter how much I love you.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” He kissed her gently, and then spun her around so she faced the door. She rested her palms against it, spreading her legs slightly. “You know what happens to good girls…”
“They finish last?” she asked breathlessly.
“Not in my world.” He dropped to his knees behind her, kneading her bare ass. Leaning in, he kissed the spot right above her hip. “In my world, you always finish first.”
She curled her hands into fists against the door. “You keep saying that, but I’m still standing here…waiting…sir.”
“That’s because”—he lifted his hand and slapped her with the belt gently—“I’m taking my time. I have a lot to make up for, and I’ll be damned if I miss a damn thing.”