His firm wet lips fed me kiss after kiss as his hard thighs clamped shut on my hips (as if I were going anywhere). Stepping back from him, pulling away had never even crossed my mind. That’s the honest truth. All of the heat inside of me had roared back to life at his touch. My body had been asleep for so long. Instead of doing the sensible thing, I fisted my hands in his hair and gave as good as I got. Biting and licking and demanding more.
A growl rumbled up from deep in his throat and his hands shifted, changing position to attack the button and zipper of my jeans. It was like the item of clothing personally offended him or something. Had done him wrong.
“Shoes,” I panted.
“Shit.”
Again, his hands moved, cupping my ass cheeks, lifting me off my feet and depositing me on the kitchen counter. Slashes of pink highlighted his cheekbones. With nil preamble, he tore into the laces on my boots, wresting the shoes and socks from my feet. Next came my jeans. This was the benefit of him being bigger and me being smaller. In times of duress, he could just lift and maneuver me as required. It was time effective if nothing else.
The nice thing about screwing around with an ex was the lack of physical angst. He’d seen my body many times before. Knew my ass wobbled a little and that my breasts were small. For certain, there was no performance anxiety or fear of him finding the dimples on my thighs off-putting. So that was a bonus. It should also be noted that guitarists’ hands are mighty swift and sure. A pair of panties went flying over his shoulder and my tee and bra weren’t far behind. I sat bare-assed on the cool stone counter.
Then he paused. “Do I need—?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not for my sake. What about you?”
“Haven’t done anything unprotected and I was tested recently.”
Truth be told, I kind of wanted to slap him for breaking our unspoken yearlong no-sex ban. Just because he hadn’t known of its existence was no excuse. In all honesty, I felt a little feral right then. A bit violent. Only he made me crazy like this.
A small smile curled his lips at the expression on my face.
“Shut up,” I snapped.
“Let me make it up to you.”
Strong hands gripped my ankles, lifting and parting them, a move necessitating that my back hit the stone surface. But I didn’t protest because I wasn’t an idiot. Instead, excitement had my pulse racing, my ribcage tightening. He bussed the insides of my thighs, stubble tickling and scraping against sensitive skin. I didn’t know where all of the oxygen in the room had gone. Somewhere important, I hoped. To someone who needed it.
Adam licked and nipped and teased a trail from my knee to where my leg met my body. I both loved and hated how he took his time, making me squirm bare-ass-naked all over, eager-like against the hard surface.
When he finally, at long last, blew a fine stream of air across my wet pussy, I just about came right there and then. His hands wrapped around my thighs, holding me open to his gaze. “Fuck, I missed you.”
“Or a certain part of me.”
“All of you,” he insisted, getting closer but still not getting the job done.
“Adam. Stop messing around.”
“So damn impatient.”
I shoved my fingers into his hair, holding him down. His answering laughter was all things low and wicked. Sinful and hot and…shit. As the pads of his thumbs held my labia open, he dragged his tongue through the length of me. My hips shot off the counter, grinding against his face. And the man went to town, eating me just how I liked. Lucky this was a hard countertop, because at this rate, some cleanup would be required I was so wet.
With teeth and tongue and lips he went to town on me, working me higher and higher. I had to admit, his delight in oral had long been a plus. He didn’t scrimp or get bored halfway through like some guys. Oh, no. Adam made a meal of me on his kitchen counter. My breath came in little pants, and my heart lodged high in my throat. Every inch of me awakened and came alive under his ministrations.
I sucked in a breath. “Fuck.”
He made a humming noise and homed in on my clit. We knew each other too damn well. Knew what drove each other crazy and what got us off. Some sucking and flicks of his tongue. A light bite. And I was done. With a loud groan, I came, body tensing, drawing up tight before releasing and rocketing for the stars. Without a doubt, he knew how to send me interstellar. Dammit.
I was still twitching when he picked me up and pushed me up against the nearest appliance.
“We’re fucking against the fridge?” I asked, arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body.
“Yep.”
“Haven’t done that before.”
His smile was all teeth.
Then he was pushing into me, the hard length of his cock stretching and claiming me. It was both grueling and delightful for everyone involved. I knew I wasn’t the only one who moaned. Adam was nice-sized. A good, decent, not-to-be-ignored sort of size. And he knew what to do with it. Something he was apparently only too pleased to once again prove by drawing out slowly before slamming back in. All of those little muscles inside of me trembled and spasmed around him, welcoming him home.
No. This was just sex. Pure fucking. Nothing more.
Forehead resting against
