Page 76 of Maybe You

Panting and moans blend together, fueled by the same need.

I push my hips upward, blindly and boldly rubbing myself against Sutton, only one goal in mind.

Release.

My dick is painfully hard, balls tight. I feel half-insane with the need for relief.

Something.

Anything.

There’s too much fabric between us.

It’s desperation like I’ve never felt before, and it’s there because I feel completely safe with Sutton above me, in control and willing to give me everything I need.

I can’t explain what makes me so sure of it.

I just know.

Whatever I want out of this, he’s going to make sure I get it.

His hand on the side of my neck is both gentle and rough. Exciting.

He lines his lower body up with mine, and we both groan at the first brush of our cocks. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, and I want him so badly that my whole body arches toward him.

Sutton pushes himself up above me and yanks his shirt off. He tosses it to the side carelessly, then grabs the hem of my shirt and wrestles it over my head. He gets off the bed, and I push myself up on my elbows to watch.

He meets my gaze, fingers working on the button of his suit pants.

“Like what you see?” His voice is husky with need.

I take a deliberately slow look before I nod.

“A lot.”

The pants are off in seconds.

I smile.

“What an efficient striptease.”

He raises a brow at me.

“Did you want me to go slower?”

“God, no,” I say empathically, and he laughs.

There’s another flash of hesitation that manages to float to the surface through the thick haze of lust at the sight of him. Still perfect. Tanned, sharply defined muscles and smooth skin.

It’s not even just his looks. He’s sophisticated and worldly and experienced, and I’m the antithesis of all of that.

I don’t have time to think, though.

Sutton hooks his fingers into the waistband of my sweats and pulls them down with a swift, practiced movement, and then he’s straddling me again.

He looks down, eyes moving up and down my body. I curl my hands into fists with the effort not to hide. Not to cover myself up.

My heartbeat turns even more frantic, mostly from anxiousness and nerves by now, but there’s unmistakable heat in Sutton’s gaze as he looks at me.

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