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Twenty-One

Ezra

I slide myhands over her shoulders and down her sides, the silky material of her dress slipping against my palms and so thin I can feel her shiver underneath. She leans into me when I cup my hands just under her ass, tugging her up and against me as she wraps her legs around my waist. No fighting, no protest…just her. It’s the sweetest victory of my entire life.

Her arms go around my neck as I slant my mouth against hers, and I capture the soft, breathy sound she makes with my tongue, wishing I could tuck it away for safekeeping. I push my fingers through her soft, midnight tresses, which are clipped up in a twist, pulling the plastic bit free until her hair is spilling down around her face, tickling my cheeks as she pulls me closer.

“Bed?”

I gasp the word even as her teeth nibble at my lower lip; I pray she hasn’t changed her mind.

“Bed,” she breathes, nodding before diving back in to lave her tongue on mine.

I move as fast as I can with her in my arms toward the hall that leads to my bedroom, still half-worried that at any second she will come up for air and decide she doesn’t want this. I kick open my bedroom door and carry her inside with purpose, never slowing until my knees bump against my mattress. Her arms loosen in their grip and her legs slowly unwind, and I can feel every inch of her lithe frame as it slides down the front of me, craning my neck to keep my mouth against hers until she’s sitting at the edge of my bed.

The picture she paints—her dark hair wild, her gray eyes gleaming in the moonlight, the red silk of her dress stark against my white sheets—it’s like something out of a dream. Which is entirely appropriate, since I’ve been dreaming about having her here, right here, for months. Now that she’s here…there’s almost an uncertainty coursing through me. Like I’m not sure how I want to touch her first.

Thankfully, Dani seems to have no such reservations.

She reaches for my belt, undoing it with nimble fingers before pulling it through the loops to toss it away. She isn’t looking at me while she does this, her eyes trained on my zipper as she slides it down, the sound of it loud in the quiet of my bedroom. It doesn’t feel right, not having her eyes. For so much of this…thing we’ve been doing, she’s been adamant about not giving them to me. I was able to deal with it before, but it’s harder now. Now that I’ve finally gotten her to stop pretending.

I brush my fingers under her chin just as she pulls apart the fabric of my slacks, and I tilt her face up to meet her gaze. Her pupils are blown wide, her irises a thin sliver around the dark discs, and her mouth is parted to release every sharp exhale that puffs from her. She looks just like I feel.

She closes her lips around my thumb and sucks it gently, only for a second, before releasing it, and I feel pleasure rush through my veins. I gulp in a breath when she shucks my pants down my thighs, still meeting my eyes as she leans in to flick her tongue against my stiff cock, which now bobs between us. A shiver creeps down my spine when her lips envelop the tip to suck, and I can’t decide what’s more arousing, the sight of her pink mouth wrapped around me or the heated stare she gives me while she does it. But as good as her mouth feels, it’s not even in the top five on the list of things I’ve thought about doing to her if I ever had her in my bed.

There’s too much ofherto see and to touch to let myself get distracted by her exploring me.

There’s a quiet sound of surprise that startles out of her when my hands curl under her arms, lifting her and hauling her further up the mattress until she flounces into the center. Her hair spreads around her, looking wild and untamed, and her teeth press against her lower lip as she watches me kick off my pants and underwear before kneeling on the bed near her feet. She watches every move—my fingers undoing the buttons of my dress shirt, the roll of my shoulders as I shrug out of it—even the quick pull of my undershirt as it drags up and over my head doesn’t escape her gaze. When I’m left in nothing but my skin, her hands slide down her sides as if to reach for the hem of her dress, but I quickly bat them away, crawling over her to press my hands on either side of her hips.

She cocks a brow. “You don’t want me naked?”

“I want to be the one who gets you naked,” I tell her, slipping a thumb under the edge of her dress, which is gathered around her thighs. I don’t even know who I’m talking to when I murmur, “You look like a fucking dream.”

I drop my head to press my lips to her stomach, the silky material still covering her cool and smooth against my mouth. I push my hands over the outsides of her thighs, slowly moving higher and taking her dress right along with them. I don’t stop; I ease it over her hips and her belly and eventually her breasts—leaving kisses along every inch of uncovered skin I can reach before I tug it over her arms and toss it to the floor.

“Jesus, Dani,” I groan.

Her black bra is sheer, teasing the dusky tips of her nipples through the thin material, and when I tilt my head down, it’s clear that her underwear were made to match. I feel almost feral taking her in, reveling in the fact that she isn’t telling me to go faster, that she isn’t pushing me toward the end. I trail a finger between the valley of her breasts and trace a path down and down—over her navel and along the edge of her panties, drawing a slow circle just over her slit where the fabric is already damp.

“Did you think of me when you picked these out?”

She makes an indignant sound. “No.”

“Liar.” I feel myself grinning; even here, underneath me, she’s still Dani. I love that. “I bet you did. I bet you wondered what I would think of them when I saw them.”

“Maybe I never intended for you to see them,” she mutters.

“You didn’t?” I tease her through the fabric, rubbing the crease of her with two fingers as she squirms from my touch. “You didn’t buy these thinking about how I would lose my fucking mind? Seeing how wet you are for me even though I’ve barely touched you yet?”

Her eyes shut tight when I start to rub little circles around her clit through her underwear, and she bites her lip as her head tilts back.

“I think it’s always been for me, Dani,” I croon, pulling my hand away just to hook my fingers into the elastic waistband. I want to preen when she lifts her hips to help me rid her of them. “Even when you didn’t want it to be. I think every single part of you has always been for me.” I brush my palms over the insides of her thighs, parting them on the journey back up as blood rushes in my ears. “Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.”

I hear her breath catch when I duck my head, her fingers carding through my hair and curling tight when my tongue first parts her. I curl my hands around her thighs to hold them open, peering up over the slopes of her body as I circle the swollen bud of her clit. Her breasts heave and her belly quivers, and her harsh grip in my hair is a welcome sting, her soft cries spurring me on, making my blood sing.

“Ezra,” she cries out when I close my lips around her to suck. “Yes.”

I’m distantly aware that my nails must be biting into the soft expanse of her thighs, but part of me likes the idea of marking her, proving that she was here with me just like this. As if it’s somehow possible to brand her as mine.