At her admission, the air leaves my lungs, and a fire is lit behind my balls. Memories of my brief time with her flood me, and suddenly I’m so hard it’s a miracle my fly doesn’t burst open to let my swelling dick pop out like a jack-in-the-box.
Shit. I turn away and bite my lip to muffle a groan as I reach down in my now too-tight jeans to accommodate my hard-on.
“Look, I know it meant nothing to you. I get it.” She’s right behind me now, and my breath catches when she trails a hand down my back. “I’m not expecting anything.”
But maybe I want her to expect more from me.
I hit the wall with my palm. I want to punch it until my knuckles bleed.
“Dylan, are you okay?” Her hand travels up to my shoulder, warm, almost weightless, and yet I feel it all the way to my throbbing cock.
I can’t. Can’t fight it anymore.
Turning around, I grab her and pull her to me. A startled yelp leaves her mouth, and I cover it with mine.
Honey, sugar. She tastes like Tessa, unique, wild, thrilling. When her hands come up to tangle in my short hair, I growl at the light sting and haul her closer. It’s not enough.
Never enough. Fuck, I don’t think a lifetime would be enough with Tessa. Need her naked right now, on me, under me, around me. I grab her legs and lift her, burying my face against the softness of her breasts.
She whispers my name, her fingers digging into my skull, and it’s fucking crazy how close I am to coming just from that, from her scent, and her body pressed to mine, still fully clothed.
Though the latter is something I’m about to remedy.
I walk toward the counter, and her legs tighten around me, so that she’s pressing right on my hard-on, and holy shit, it feels so damn good.
We crash into the counter, and I have a fleeting oh-shit moment when I think Miles will start pounding on the door to see what’s happening, but when I deposit her on the counter and move between her legs, the world fades away.
I grab the hem of her sweater and tear it off. Underneath she’s dressed in a red bra that lifts her breasts like offerings. I nuzzle the white, soft mounds, and I pull down her pants and underwear, not even glancing down to see them. I don’t care what she’s wearing. It has to come off, every offending last bit of cloth.
“Dylan,” she breathes, and I want to kiss her soft lips, but first I need to kiss those breasts that are straining, caught in the red fabric. I reach behind her and unclasp the bra, letting it fall, and replace it with my hands, so I can lift each breast to my mouth, to lick and suckle on each perfect nipple.
Whoa. Mistake or not, I want her like nothing and nobody else in my life. Her nipples taste sweet, like her mouth, and I take my time, teasing them with my tongue and teeth, until she grabs my head and presses me closer, letting out breathless moans and pleas.
Then I reach between her legs and find her pulsing center. I push two fingers inside her as I crash our lips together. I kiss her long and deep as I fuck her with my fingers, and she cries out in my mouth, contracting around me again and again as she comes.
Yeah, every time she’s more beautiful. She’s a goddess. Splayed wide on my kitchen counter, her blond hair wild and tousled, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and pupils dilated, she’s fucking unbelievable.
Can’t believe how much I missed her. How much sweeter she is than I remember. Better than any memory.
Her lashes lower, and she digs her heels in my back, pulling me closer. I steady myself with a hand on the counter and swallow a moan when my cock presses between her legs.
“Off,” she whispers. “Take your clothes off. Come inside me, now.”
Christ, she’s driving me crazy. I get rid of my sweater in seconds and push down my jeans and briefs.
The release of pressure is disorienting as my dick springs free, but then her hand closes around it, and I gasp, my hips jerking. I wrap my hand around hers, and together we guide my cock into her.
No condom, the thought flashes through my brain, but it’s already on overload. I’ll withdraw in time, I think, and push deep inside her heat.
Fireworks go off behind my eyes, and the room darkens. Holy fuck. I slam my hand into the cupboard above us, trying to control my body, trying to hold off the orgasm threatening to start in my tightening balls.
Not yet.
“Dylan…” She’s squeezing me, her hips moving in tiny circles, drawing me deeper, and I can’t breathe, it’s that wicked good.
“Hold on to me,” I say, and her hands find my shoulders and clasp them. I lift her legs higher, until she’s hanging off the counter. Hanging on to me.
So that I can push a little deeper.
We moan together as the pressure mounts. I pull back a little, then push back inside, struggling to keep back a cry of pleasure. This… This is mind-blowing. Trying to get traction, I hold on to the cupboard for dear life as I find a rhythm, rolling in and out, slamming into her again and again.