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She squeezed me through the thin fabric and I let out a low groan.

“Jesus, Michelle…”

I had to see her. I had to look into her eyes to see if this was what she really wanted. Turning, I slid my hand up to her face.

Her hand stayed on me the whole time, stroking now.

It was so dark I couldn’t see more than the faint outline of her cheek, the soft rippling of her hair.

“Are you sure?” I asked. I was thinking of her words last night. No, this night. It was still dark—dawn had to be a ways off still.

“No,” she said.

I froze. But her hand kept moving, confusing both my body and my head. It felt so good I couldn’t think.

But before I could say anything her lips were at my ear, her hair tickling my shoulder. “But I don’t want to stop, either.”

I struggled for words. I was immersed in Michelle Franco. I was breathing her. Feeling her. Wanting her.

Michelle.

Michelle. She wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure. This was going to fuck everything up.

She slipped her hand inside my shorts, stroking my bare cock now.

But I no longer cared. The last bits of restraint left me and a low growl I didn’t even recognize came out of my throat. I lifted myself up, turning around so her hand fell off me.

Then I was over her with my elbows on either side.

My mouth was on hers, my lips against her lips, my tongue flicking against her teeth.

“Is this what you want, Michelle?” I wedged my knee between hers, nudging them open. The question was no longer about feelings. It was about need.

I lowered my hips so she could feel mine, pressing my cock against the fabric between us.

It felt like fucking heaven.

She gasped. “Yes. This is exactly what I want.”

As I kissed her again, I wanted to say this was what I’d wanted too—and it was true. But that wasn’t all of it. I trailed kisses down her neck and along her throat, feeling her nipples harden against my chest.

“I’ve wanted you since the first day we met,” I said as I lifted her shirt up. She raised her upper half so I could pull it over her head. I took in the curve of her breasts in the dark.

But it wasn’t enough to touch her. I wanted to see her, too. “Light,” I said, in between kisses. “I need to see you.”

I wanted to remember this—all of it, with every sense I had. I wanted a picture in my mind of this perfect, exquisite moment.

“There’s a candle there,” she said, pointing to a gleaming object on the bedside table. I reached up, fiddling with the lighter next to it, lighting the single flame.

Michelle’s face lit up in the soft golden light. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, those long lashes at half-mast.

She was stunning. And she was mine.

I backed up onto my knees, wanting to see all of her. She tried to pull her arms over herself, but I shook my head. “Don’t. Please. You’re fucking… everything.”

Michelle lifted her arms up over her head. I bent down and took both her breasts in my hands, holding them before me like a feast. Then I brought my mouth to one nipple, teasing and tugging it into a hard bud.

Michelle whimpered, writhing under me. I took her other breast, doing the same, until both her nipples were hard, gleaming nubs. I drew kisses down her stomach, trailing my tongue down to the hem of her underwear. I looked up, checking with her, and she nodded. I hooked my fingers into her waistband and tugged them down, revealing the glistening core of her.