Page 68

I swallowed again, uncertain.

“Val?”

“Yeah?” I didn’t bother trying to make my voice sound normal this time, and it came out breathy and rough.

“Take off your sweater.”

I whipped it off over my head, finding a small, half-smirk on Taavi’s lips when I emerged from the coils of knitted yarn.

“Now your shirt.”

I had on a t-shirt, plain black, and that followed the sweater onto the floor.

“And jeans.”

I had to stand up to get these off, which put me standing right next to Taavi, and I could feel the warmth of his body radiating through the air against my now-chill bare skin. I undid the button and fly on my jeans, then let them fall to the floor.

Taavi was right—I was still losing weight. Normally I had to actually push my jeans off my hips, but they were just loose enough now that they dropped of their own accord once I’d gotten them over my erection.

That left me in my boxer briefs, the front pushed out by my interest in where I hoped this was going.

“Now these,” Taavi murmured, his voice low as he stepped close enough to hook a finger in the waistband of my underwear.

I pushed them down, and Taavi settled his hands on my hips, his palms warm against my skin.

“Kiss me,” he breathed.

I bent and captured his mouth with mine, drinking him in as deeply as I could, feeling every inch of his five-four frame pressed up against me, the warmth of his skin, the heat and growing hardness of his cock against my thigh. It set my blood on fire, and I let out a half-swallowed, involuntary sound.

Taavi pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, his fingers still on my hips. “Val?” He was a little breathless. I was more so.

“Y-yeah?”

“I—” He bit his lip.

I wasn’t used to Taavi being uncertain when it came to our sex life.

I bent, pressing my lips to his jaw, just under his ear. Then another, beneath his jawbone. And another, lower on his throat.

I turned us both, sitting back on the bed, pulling him with me so that he was standing between my knees and I could run my tongue over some of the whorls of his tattoo.

His fingers sank into my short hair, and he grasped handfuls of the white strands. He pulled my head back, then bent to kiss me, deeply, desperately.

I slid my hands around to his backside, grasping the firm roundness of his glutes and massaging the muscles.

God, I fuckinglovethe feel of his body.

“Val…” It was a whisper, a breath.

“Taavi,” I answered, and it was half a groan, desire and need making me incapable of complex speech.

He kissed me again, the heat of his tongue sending tingles through my belly. I pulled him closer, spreading my knees to pull his body flush with mine. The feeling of his skin, his fingers in my hair, his thick cock pushing against my abdomen.

I tore myself away from his lips so that I could bend to pull his erection into my mouth, and I felt his fingernails scrape over my scalp as he tightened his hands in my hair.

God, I fucking love his hands. And his cock.

I pulled him tighter to me, running my fingers between his ass cheeks, drawing a shudder from him as I sucked him into the back of my throat.