Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(164)

I didn’t move, it was only fair. I’d taken my time, memorizing every detail, watching her. She deserved no less, if she wanted it.

“You’re beautiful,” she said on a breath, the sound almost lost to the noise of the shower.

“I’m yours,” I said, not knowing I was going to say it before it came out, and thinking immediately after how stupid I sounded.

I should have said she was beautiful. I should have said she was gorgeous, perfect, flawless, a fucking goddess, lust and desire personified.

Before I could, her eyes came back to mine and the look she was giving me . . . well, let’s just say, maybe I wasn’t so stupid after all.

Oh, fuck it.

I reached for her. Her skin was hot and slippery beneath my hands. Perfect. We met under the water, her arms coming around my neck, her breasts slick against my chest, and I think I groaned into her mouth. Like the greedy bastard I was, I pressed her against the wall, and feasted on her stunning body. I bit her neck, her chest, shoulder, and my hands were just as insatiable, consuming and memorizing the softness of her hips, ass, thighs, the bend of her waist, the lush fullness of her exquisite tits.

That’s right.

Exquisite. Tits.

I wanted to smother myself, inhale her, suffocate on her skin. I couldn’t get enough. My heart thought I was running a sprint, and my dick—which had made itself right at home sliding and pressing against the wet hot of her bare stomach—thought we were about to fuck.

Sorry for all the dick status updates, but my wood was important to the action here, and I didn’t want to leave anything out. I wanted to commit to memory every single second.

We needed to slow down, I needed to slow down. But I wasn’t thinking with my brain.

I bent my forehead to hers, taking a breather, even as my fingers—moving with a mind of their own—found her tight nipple and gave a tug, the sound she made sent a gratifying, piercing heat down my spine.

Kat gasped, her fingers kneading my backside. Her mouth chased mine, coming to my neck when I held myself away. A hand slid up my back, around my side, fingertips against the ridges of my stomach, moving lower.

I caught her hand. “Wait.”

“Dan.” She pushed her breast into my other hand, moving in that lithe way. Rocking restlessly against me, like her body was searching for mine. “Touch me.”

One of my hands slid lower while the other held her wrist over her head, against the tile wall. I bent to take her breast in my mouth, groaning at the sweetness of it, of her. She widened her legs, her breath hitching, the nails of her free hand digging into the back of my head.

But I hesitated sealing the deal; not because I was uncertain, but because I was a greedy fuck and wanted to hear her beg.

“Dan.”

My name sounded urgent. She tilted her hips. I pressed the base of my palm against her lower stomach, my fingers teasing her opening without touching where she needed.

“Dan!”

“Mmm?” I swirled my tongue around her nipple, waiting . . . waiting . . .

“Please!” Her voice was high, tight, needy.

It did things to me.

My dick pulsed, ached. Without meaning to, my hips gave a jerk and I was pressing myself mindlessly against her hip.

That’s right. I was humping her leg. But whatcha gonna do? It felt great. And she moaned, so I knew she didn’t mind.

“Dan. Touch me. Please, please, please.” Kat was breathing hard, excited. I released her wrist. Her nails digging into my skin a punishment for my delay.

“I want you,” I said, sliding a finger into her, separating her, tracing a circle around the spot where she wanted me. “I need you. I want inside you.”

She whimpered, such a sexy sound, her nails scratching down my back, her legs shaking. “Yes.”

“How badly do you want me?” I baited, biting and kissing a path up her neck, sliding my cock between her legs, slick against her clit, nudging her entrance, whispering in her ear, “You’re so fucking sexy like this, hot and wet.”

I leaned back to capture her mouth, giving her another stroke down below. She shivered, her nails digging into my hips.

I ended the kiss with a slow lick of her lips, wanting to remind her of my mouth on other places. “I thought about you all day, on your desk last night,” another sliding stroke, another shiver, “your skirt hiked up. How you opened your legs for me—”

A gasp.

“How much you liked it when my mouth was on you, eating your—”

She covered my mouth with hers, groaning, her hands coming to my shoulders and pushing me back, back, back, beneath and past the spray of the shower, until my knees connected with a ledge.

“Sit down,” she ordered, pushing, her hand sliding down my body to wrap around my cock.