“You shouldn’t have bothered with the clothes,” I growled.
She whipped the tank off over her head before I could get to it. Then she pushed me back until I was sinking into the chair by her bed and she was straddling my hips. I wanted to break through her shell, but I was so damn hard, my erection pressing against my jeans, and she gasped as she settled against me.
Her lips parted slightly, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “What are we doing?” she moaned, rocking her hips against me.
“Being impulsive,” I murmured.
“Kennedy.” Then her lips were on me again, her body pressed close. My dick throbbed, aching with the tease in her movement. When she pulled back, her blue eyes had darkened and her lips were parted.
“You’re so gorgeous.”
She licked her lips and ran her gaze over my torso. “Likewise.”
I liked this position. A perfect view of her breasts. Easy access to her mouth. But I needed access to more of her. I slid my hands under her ass, holding her as I stood. In two long strides, I was lowering her onto her bed.
She settled her hands above her head and grinned up at me. “Come here then.”
“Not yet.” I’d lose myself if I started touching her now. Fuck. If she moaned loudly enough, I’d probably even go off in my jeans. I wasn’t willing for this moment to rush by. Not when I’d thought about it for so long.
I touched each of her tattoos, starting with the vine under her ribcage, then moving to the four-pointed star inked over her heart between her breasts. “Do you have any others?”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she nodded. “The inside of my left foot.”
I moved down the bed and lifted her foot. Right along the instep, a fine script said Carry on. “Fuck, Bree. Even your feet are sexy.” I pressed a kiss there, and she giggled.
“Ticklish?”
She propped herself up on her elbows, giving me a fabulous fucking view of her breasts. “Little bit.”
It seemed wrong that I didn’t know that before. “Any others?”
“Ankle.”
I pushed up her yoga pants to find a braid tattooed like an anklet on her skin. I stroked it, slid my hands up her pant leg, massaged her calf. “Where else?”
“Inner thigh,” she whispered.
My breath left me in a rush. My eyes locked on hers. Her pupils were wide, turning her bright blue eyes dark. She lifted her hips off the bed, and I peeled the dark cotton off her legs.
And just that quickly, she was naked again. Twice in the span of twenty minutes because apparently I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.
I loved looking at naked Bree. I loved the way she just lay there unashamed, with her arms over her head as I ran my gaze over her, from her face and her eyes to her breasts, to the flat of her belly, then finally to the softness of her bare thighs.
“Let me see,” I whispered, grazing her hipbones with my fingertips.
Her chest rose and fell as she slowly parted her thighs, exposing herself to me.
I climbed onto the bed and dropped to my elbows between her legs, my face so close to her sex it had my head spinning. The tattoo was a snowflake the size of a silver dollar, but its design wasn’t the generic snowflake seen in winter decorations. The webbing was artful, intricate.
“Did you do design this?”
Her belly sank with her shaky exhale, and I traced the pattern. “Yeah.”
“You’re so talented.” Then I removed my fingers and placed my open mouth against the design. She gasped. I parted her thighs farther and sucked on that sensitive spot until she whimpered.
“Kennedy. Please.”
“Even some impulses shouldn’t be rushed.”
I trailed soft kisses over her body. I loved the dip in her collarbone, the soft, subtle swell of her breasts, and I tasted each, my tongue tracing the hills and valleys of her body, my mouth wrapping around the hardened peaks of her nipples. As I sucked, her back arched and her hands slid into my hair, tugging as she let out a soft little moan. It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to make her lose control. I wanted to make her cry out while her body shook under my touch.
I sucked harder at her breast and slid a hand between her legs.
She drew in a little gasp as my fingers connected with the slick, sensitive flesh between her legs. Better. Closer. I could feel her unraveling. But I still wanted more.
I pushed myself down, trailing my mouth across her stomach as I made my way between her legs. “I just can’t get enough of this spot.” I ran my fingers over the tattoo at her inner thigh then followed my touch with my mouth. I tasted her art with hot, open-mouthed kisses until I could feel the muscles in her thighs trembling under my mouth.