I can’t get enough of her, either.
Kissing has never been like this. It’s never been this good, this intense. I’m drunk on her, intoxicated on her taste, her tongue, her mouth, her sweetness.
Harper fucking loves being kissed. And she’s right. She does melt. She melts into me, and that’s where I want her, so far gone. Her warm, pliant body is like water in my arms, moving with me, gliding against my chest, pressing against every inch of my hard body. I can only imagine what it will be like to have my lips all over her, to explore every inch of her, to drive her wild with my tongue.
She moans, and I swallow that sound. She wriggles even closer, her breasts pushing against my chest, and her hands play with the hair on the back of my neck. At one point she kisses me so hard, she pushes my glasses against my nose.
“Ow,” I say softly, breaking the kiss.
“Sorry,” she says.
I separate from her, set my glasses on the nightstand, and return my attentions to Harper, running my fingers down her arms, making her shiver.
“I hardly ever see you without your glasses,” she says softly as she studies me.
“Do I look like a different guy?”
She shakes her head, then takes my face in her hands, running her fingers over my beard. “No. You look like you, and you look so good. And I love kissing you.” Her voice is stripped bare and full of a beautiful lust that heats my skin all over, that burns in my bones.
Her lips fuse to mine and that frenzied pace returns. This kiss ignites, picking up speed, racing to a whole other level. She makes the sexiest sounds as she moans and murmurs, completely consumed with the way we kiss. Her noises make me want her even more, and I didn’t think it was possible to crave a person this much.
But I do. I just fucking do.
Her fingers brush across my stubble as we devour each other. I bring my hands to her hips, shifting her so she’s on me, straddling me. I’m so lit up with her. I can feel her everywhere, and I want to do everything with her.
I’m pretty sure she wants the same because she pushes against my hard-on, grinding into me through all these goddamn clothes we’re both wearing. Too many stupid layers. I don’t know where we’re going tonight, how far or how fast, but I can’t even think. I want to be in the moment with her. Every moment, including this one, where my hands find their way to the hem of her dress, and I slide them under the fabric.
I break the kiss. “Stockings,” I say, like a man hypnotized.
“You like stockings.”
“I do, and you’re killing me.” My fingers travel up the back of her legs, and she rocks against me.
I grow even harder as she thrusts. Then harder still as I reach the top of the stockings. They’re thigh-highs, and I want to look at them, gawk at them, stare at them. But I’m not moving her off me. No chance of that. Not when she breathes this rapidly, each one coming faster than the next. Not as she grinds against my dick. And not as I move my hands to her delicious ass, sliding them over the sheer lacy fabric.
She cries out, and her face falls into my neck. She buries it there, moaning as I squeeze those luscious cheeks.
“Oh God,” she whispers, her voice strained as she rocks into me, her breathing wildly erratic.
“So you like this,” I ask rhetorically as I grip her ass. I can tell she likes it. I can tell she loves it.
“So much.” Her voice breaks, her pitch rises, and this moment crystallizes to its pure, wicked possibilities.
I grab her skirt in the front, gather the material in a flash, and yank it up to her waist. She still straddles me, still riding, still thrusting against me. My hands return to her ass again as if I’m steering her, moving her sweet hot body against the outline of my rock-hard cock. It’s just Harper in her wet panties, rubbing on me.
“Ride me, princess,” I whisper harshly in her ear. “Ride me like that ’til you come.”
I’m rewarded with another oh God, as she moves faster, rocks harder, picks up the pace. She grabs my face, grips my jaw, and holds me as she dry-humps me. Every single thing about her turns me on—her need, her want, her wild lust, her sounds, and this ass. It’s spectacular—firm and so damn soft at the same time. I grip the flesh hard, how she likes it, and she lets out a sexy squeak.
“I fucking adore your ass,” I say roughly.
She moans something unintelligible.
I dig my fingers inside the lace on her rear, guiding her moves, making her ride my erection faster and wilder. “You’re so close, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she cries out. “Oh God, Nick. Oh my God.”
Those are the last words I can make out. The rest is just noise—pure, carnal sound as she rides me to the edge, and then trembles, shaking as she comes on me. So hard. She comes so fucking hard on me, clothes on, the friction itself all she needed to get there. I lace my fingers in her hair, pride surging through my entire being as I take in the flush in her cheeks, the shuddering in her shoulders. I want to remember every detail of what it feels like to make her shatter this first time.