Page 56 of Second Best Again
"Exactly three," he said, stepping close enough that his shoulder brushed hers as they both looked out the window. "I'll be out wi' ma binoculars, just in case any o' the neighbourhood lads get any ideas."
Before she could roll her eyes, he shifted, bracing one palm on either side of the counter, caging her in. The playful spark in his grin deepened into something darker, hungrier.
Her breath caught as he leaned down, his mouth finding hers in a searing kiss that stole thought and air alike. His tongue teased at her lips before pushing past, tangling with hers in a fierce, unrelenting slide. She moaned into his mouth, and he used the sound, the moment, to claim more.
His hands roamed, learning the shape of her breasts, memorising the lines of her waist before curving lower. With a firm tug, he dragged her against him, fingers tightening at her buttocks until she was flush against the hard press of his body.
The laugh she'd been holding dissolved into a moan of want, her hands clutching his shirt before pulling it free from his pants and sliding over bare skin. One muscular thigh pressed between hers, parting them while his hardness pressed urgently against her belly. They both groaned as she moved against his thigh with a sensuous twist of her hips.
His hands moved up to cup her face and pressed her forehead against his. Their breaths came ragged, like they'd sprinted miles only to collide here, in this moment.
Then, rough and unfiltered, his voice broke the charged silence. "Why the fuck are ye wearin' pants? You should only wear skirts...an' nae panties."
Her lips parted, amusement trickling in, a tremor of laughter running through her. "Are you...starting a wishlist?"
"It's more of a wishlist of you. It has been a long few months of cold showers and my left hand."
Her fingers slid into his until they stumbled towards the sofa. The curtains were already drawn, the room hushed and intimate, the faint spill of lamplight softening the edges. Sheets were draped across the cushions, as though the place had beenwaiting for them. They slipped as he fell back, hauling her with him until she straddled his lap.
Their mouths met again, frantic and bruising, his teeth catching her lower lip as though he wanted to consume her whole. His hands closed over her breasts, rough palms kneading, forcing a gasp from her throat.
"I want to see you," he mumbled as he rushed to divest her of her sweater and then her bra. Careful fingers cupped her full breasts, shaped them before moving to trace her pink nipples. His mouth moved to pull one into his mouth and gently lave it with his tongue. His teeth playfully bit, drawing a gasp before moving on to lavish the same attention on the other.
"Take your pants off, love. Take it off," he muttered urgently against her breast.
"You first," Sage grumbled.
He stood with her. Together, they undressed while cataloguing every new patch of skin uncovered. Slowly, reverently, he traced his hands along her arms, sliding fabric aside, pressing kisses to each patch of skin revealed. With every button undone, every layer eased away, Sage's breath grew shallower, her nerves and desire tangling until she could hardly separate them.
When she fidgeted under the intensity of his stare, he caught her hand, brushing his thumb over her palm. "Beautiful," he whispered with wonder, the word itself steadying her.
The world narrowed to the two of them—the hush of the house around them, the press of his lips, the heat of his skin—and Sage let herself forget the ghosts of her past, the boxes, the endings. For once, she let herself be wanted, completely and without hesitation. Sage did not have any time to feel shy before he pulled her to him, his hardness pressing insistently between them.
"I won't last," he groaned, reaching for the condoms in his pant pocket.
They both looked at each other and giggled before turning serious again.
"I won't, either," she whispered, desperate and reckless. "I want to feel you."
A curse tore from his chest, his jaw clenched as though her words undid him completely. "I'm clean. Swear it. It's only ever been cold showers and my own hand since ye."
The confession hit her like a spark to tinder.
He dropped onto the sofa with a groan that was half relief, half hunger, pulling her between his knees. When she moved to climb onto his lap, he caught her waist and guided her closer, his breath hot against her throat. His fingers moved down her soft belly to part her curls and find her sensitive nub. A slow finger circled it gently before dipping down into her softness. She was already wet there, and he brought the wetness out to circle her sensitive nub again and again. Their mouths collided, hungry and unrestrained. She shivered, pressing into his touch.
"You've no idea how long I've dreamed of this," he murmured, voice ragged, the lilt of his brogue curling around her like smoke.
Her answer was a wordless gasp against his lips as she settled astride him, her knees braced on either side of his hips. Their foreheads pressed together once more, breaths tangling, the heat of them wrapping the room in something wild and unstoppable as she reached between them. Soft fingers explored as she moved her hands over his manhood, once, twice, before moving closer to notching her soft opening on him and slowly sink down. He watched as she stopped, her face pinching in pain.
"It's been a while," she whispered with a gasp.
Then she bore down until he was completely enveloped in her wet heat. He threw his head back with a hoarse cry as she moved up and down on him, his fingers sinking into her hips to guide her, touch her, taste her neck. She shifted against him, thefriction making him groan. His hands clamped around her hips, guiding her as though he couldn't decide whether to slow her down or drive her harder.
"Christ, lass," he bit out, his voice low and guttural. "Ye'll ruin me."
She moved with a smile on her face as she watched him squeeze his eyes shut, every roll of her hips an unspoken dare. His head tipped back against the sofa, a broken sound rumbling in his throat, his body taut beneath hers.
“That’s my good lass. Just like that, just like that.”
