Page 31 of Erotic Temptations 2

“No thanks,” I said. “I’ll crash if I do.”

He grinned, then shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it onto a side chair. “Couch duty, then.”

He slouched onto the broad-backed couch, patting the seat beside him. I followed, sinking into the cushions. The fabric was soft, broken-in but not scratchy. He clicked on the TV with the remote, some comfort-food sitcom playing at low volume. My eyes kept drifting closed.

Kane’s arm found my shoulders. Not heavy. Not forcing. Just…there.

He smelled like some grown-up version of aftershave, woodsy, bitter, but clean. My head found a spot at his shoulder,almost on instinct. He slid his thumb over my sleeve, tracing the line of my arm.

I melted into the warmth, part of me worried I’d drool on his nice shirt. The fatigue didn’t help. My breath evened out. He drew his fingers along my upper arm in soft gentle strokes.

The TV flickered. My leg pressed against his, my hands on my thighs.

At some point, I looked up at him. He was already looking at me.

The eye contact lingered. My pulse stuttered. For half a second, I thought he’d go for it.

Then he did.

Kane dipped his head, eyes locked on mine, mouth parted just barely. He kissed me, slow, sure, lingering. His lips were warm, the pressure steady. My breath caught. Electricity sizzled up my throat. My back thumped against the cushions. Kane leaned in, lips glued to mine, devouring me like he hadn’t eaten all day. The pressure ramped up with every heartbeat. I moaned into his mouth, desperate for air but refusing to let go.

His teeth grazed my lower lip, and his tongue snaked between my lips, hot and wet, demanding. I felt myself melting into him, letting him take what he wanted. The friction of Kane’s body pressed against mine nearly short-circuited my brain.

His hands traveled up my sides, pushing up the hem of my shirt. Callused palms, rougher than I expected, skimmed along the bare skin of my ribs. He squeezed my waist, then slid his hands around to cup my ass, pulling me flush against him. Our bodies locked full-length, hips grinding together. I gasped. His dick, already rock hard, dug into mine through layers of denim. Every nerve ending in my body went radioactive.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Kane growled, dipping his head to lick along my jaw. Wet heat, then teeth. He sucked the spotbeneath my ear, biting lightly. The sound that rumbled in my throat would’ve embarrassed me if I wasn’t so gone.

“Don’t stop,” I managed, my voice shaking. “God, keep going, please.”

He chuckled, low and wicked. His next kiss bruised my mouth. “Love hearing you beg,” he said, grinding harder, making sure I felt just how much he wanted me.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, yanking him closer. The couch creaked under us. He heaved a shaky breath, then kissed lower, trailing down my neck. Hot mouth, then a flick of tongue over my collarbone. He had one hand in my hair, guiding my head back to bare my throat. The other kneaded my ass, squeezing, owning me.

I was trembling, the hunger rolling through my bloodstream. Our hips jerked together, friction ratcheting up until it hurt, but I didn’t care.

He shifted to give me room, never breaking the kiss. My fingers slid under his T-shirt, skimming across warm, unyielding muscle. Every inch of him begged to be touched, and I wanted all of it.

Kane’s mouth descended, sucking my earlobe. I whimpered, stupidly loud.

“That how you want it, Elijah?” His words buzzed in my ear, filthy and delicious. “Want it hard? Want me to fuck you like you deserve?”

Clawing at his shoulders, I whimpered. “Yes. Please. Want you.”

He sat back to rip off his shirt. His muscles were tight and ridged under his tan skin. Every line of his body made my mouth water. Bare to the waist, he was all power and dark hair and hunger.

I wanted to worship him.

I wanted to be on my knees.

Grabbing his face, I dragged him into another kiss, harder this time. Our teeth clacked, the spit slick between us. For a second it was nothing but mouths, hands, and need.

He gripped my wrist and pulled my hand to his crotch. His cock strained the denim. Hot, thick, alive. I squeezed, feeling his body jump under my fingers. Kane’s eyes rolled back, a groan vibrating against my lips.

“Knew you’d be good with your hands,” he panted, thrusting into my palm.

I massaged his erection, palming him through the jeans, relishing the way he gasped and bucked. The hunger in his gaze almost scared me—but not enough to stop.

My turn.