Page 23 of Savage in the Sheets
I slide my hand down, over his taut abs as his hand snakes over my ribs. He makes me feel small. Tiny compared to how big he is.
His hands roam down my dress, grasping my hips and jerking my body closer to his. His lips find mine again, locking in an insatiable kiss.
Unable to hold off any longer, I bring my hand lower still, to the bulge in his jeans.
He’s massive, bigger than any man I’ve ever been with, and I long to feel its silky flesh.
He groans against me, and for a moment, I almost lose my resolve and try to pull out his cock.
But this isn’t just any casual fuck. This is Weston, and everything we do, must be done with care. I stop myself before I do anything stupid, but I know I’m not to be trusted.
In one fluid motion, never breaking our kiss, Weston rises and scoops my legs up, lying me on the couch, then positions himself between my legs, my skirt and his jeans between us.
Holy fuck—this is so hot!
He presses his clothed member against my core as his hands rove over my breasts, his mouth plundering mine.
My legs wrap around his waist, wanting him inside of me.
It feels like a scandal. A quick office fling you rush through because you never know who’s going to walk in.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs against my mouth.
I reply honestly. “And you feel like a disaster of epic proportions.”
“I’m the disaster? You’re gonna leave me with a serious case of blue balls.”
I consider asking him to break our agreement. I’m half-tempted to rip my clothes off myself. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.
But what we have, what we’re doing, feels magical. It feels right. I don’t want to rush this.
His body stills over mine, and he looks down at me with serious blue eyes. “I’m gonna have to stop.”
He gives me one last kiss before rising and adjusting himself.
My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach, immediately mourning his absence.
“Shall we resume this tomorrow?” he asks.
“Tomorrow? Damn, I wish I could.”
“What about after your date with Barry this Thursday?” His mouth twitches to the side in a wry smile.
“Crap, I still have to cancel that.”
“Tell me, Savage, when’s good for you?”
I want to tell him to get his ass in my room, onto my bed, and handle the situation right now.
But my logical brain prevails.
“I think I need until Friday.”
His shoulders slump in disappointment. “I’ll be counting down the days.”
I straighten my dress and try to avert my gaze from his body, hoping he won’t realize how utterly beholden I am to him.
And make no mistake, I am completely smitten. Things will never be the same.
