Page 119 of You, As You Are

“There’ll be no more pretending,” he warned, the stream of his blood heating up under his skin.

“Good.”Maisie crushed her lips against his so hard he wondered where this woman had come from. This wasn’t the woman who sat with him on the beach front telling him quiet stories about her family. This woman was hungry. She was ravished for what she deserved to have.

Iain needed her closer.

“Where can I touch you?” He panted between kisses.

“Everywhere.”

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. He fisted her hair with both hands at the roots and gently pulled Maisie back. Annoyance for the interruption was like a feral little fox on her face.

“Get in my lap, Daff,” he said. “Sit on my cock.” Iain needed to feel her, but more importantly, he wanted her off of the damn hard floor.

Maisie’s breath hitched. Eyes locked with his, she climbed over and straddled his hips, hovering, her knees sinking into the blanket beneath them. A pulse of hesitance thrummed in the vein that flashed in her neck, so Iain lowered his lashes in a look that told her to sit the hell down.

Arms around his neck, the soft centre ofhermet the hardness of him. Iain wrapped his hands around her wide hips and pulled her forwards so they lined up completely.

“Oh my—”Maisie’s thighs jumped, squeezing around his hips, and he groaned as her warmth between them rubbed over his length.Allof his length.

Stars hung in her eyes, and he said, “You didn’t see all of me when you spied on me earlier, then?”

Maisie’s full lower lip found its way between her teeth, the colour darkening on her cheeks.

Dropping his gaze, Iain circled his arms around her lower back and nudged his nose to her chest. “Can I play with these?”

“Yes.Yes,” she said on ragged breaths.

Between the open collar of her shirt, he nuzzled her warm, freckled skin again. “Why don’t you take them out for me?”

Maisie grabbed hold of the back of his neck. “I should tell you what you’re getting here.”

His eyes pinched, and when he glanced up, she was staring behind him, looking far gone yet certainly not completely with him. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve got stretch marks,” she uttered. “My belly?—”

“Don’t explain yourself to me, Maisie,” Iain cut her off, locking his arms around her body and holding her tight. “I’m here for you. All of you. There are no conditions at all.”

As if he didn’t expect for her to be human. She wasn’t a teenager; she was a fully grown woman in a woman’s body. No scar or lump or bump could make Iain want to get off of this ride.

His insistence made Maisie snap her focus back to him.

“Now, do you want my mouth on these tits or not?”

Maisie unhooked her arms from his neck so her fingers could fly to the white buttons of the pyjama shirt.

“Slower,” he rasped.

The buttons popped open one by one. Her wide hips worked the slightest circle in his lap as she peered at his reaction – the way he traced his tongue over his lips as his eyes wandered over her smooth, exposed skin. His fingers curled in the fabric at her back and tugged, the sleeves sliding down her arms as the shirt fell to the floor.

Iain felt his own cheeks burn. He couldn’t stop his hips from punching up under her when she let him see her stomach and breasts; such fullness made his pyjamas strain even harder.

He dipped his head and licked up the centre over her breastbone, crossing the endless map of freckles up her chest that he’d been wanting to touch. Panting, Maisie’s mouth fell to his hair, fingers gripping him by the back of his head while her core ground wider circles over his aching cock.

They moved together as one, her rising chest matching the smooth roll of her hips, Iain’s torso rocking with her motion.

“Your hands are so rough,” she breathed as he spread his palms across her back, scaling her spine that bowed up to him.

“They would never hurt you,” he uttered, taking a slow swipe of her nipple with his tongue.

---