He nearly hurled his coffee to the floor to get his hands on her as she straddled him.
When her arms came around his neck, when her body settled against his chest, he let out a breath and wrapped her into his arms. Content to sit here in this chair with her and rock for the rest of his life.
“I have to tell you something,” she whispered against his neck.
He squeezed her tighter. Something was about to change.
When she said whatever she had to say, they wouldn’t be able to go back to before. To now. He wasn’t prepared for that. Hell, he wasn’t prepared for what had happened between them mere hours ago. Their lives had changed. At least his had. His course altered. And there was no going back.
“Go ahead, baby,” he said, sinking his fingers into her hair and holding her face against him.
She took a shuddery breath.
“I have to work my way up to it.”
Fuck.
“Okay.”
She pulled back to look at him. That sad smile was still there, and he wanted to kiss it away.
“Do you want to talk about what we did tonight?” she asked.
His cock stirred against her as the memories etched permanently into his brain flickered through his thoughts. She’d let him do so many things to her.
“Do you?” he hedged.
This time her lips spread into a grin as a flush tinged her cheeks pink. “I liked it. A lot. Wait, that’s not true.”
He stiffened again. Fearful that this was the moment it all came crashing down.
“I loved it.” She framed his face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Chaste and sweet. A reward. A gold fucking star for treating her like a plaything.
“You can’t be real,” he whispered.
“I kept wondering if I was born like this. Or if it was for you. Did I sense it in you, and I wanted to be what you wanted?”
“Remi.” He closed his eyes as his erection began to throb. It wasnotthe time for an encore. She had things to tell him. He needed reassurances. Neither of them would get what they needed if he slid his dick into her.
She shifted against him and bit her lower lip.Fuck.
He gripped her hips and held her still. “No distractions.”
“You have to admit, doing more of that would be more fun than talking,” she said, rocking against him again.
He growled, fingers finding their way under the hem of her sweatshirt to grip her ass. She was wearing some kind of silky underwear that made his fingers feel even rougher by comparison. Unable to stop himself, he gave her a quick, hard upward thrust. Then another.
“Brick.” She leaned into him, drawing her lips to his and stealing the oxygen from his lungs.
“Baby,” he breathed. Fingers digging into the soft curves of her ass. “Stop.”
“I’d rather do this than talk,” she said, raising up on her knees only to grind down against his aching arousal.
He fisted one hand in the hem of her sweatshirt, holding it against her back and gave her ass a stinging slap with his other. Her intake of breath was sharp. Seeing her eyes go wide and glassy with arousal didn’t help his predicament. He wanted more. Wanted to do more. Taste more. Wanted to memorize the sound his hand made when it connected with her.
“Talk,” he ordered gruffly.
She pouted prettily, and his dick reacted accordingly.