Page 49 of Stirred Up

“Turn around.” His sinister command has me complying immediately. “So damn beautiful.” He traces my jaw with his fingertip, leaning in to place one soft kiss on my lips. “Perfect.”

Anticipation looms until one broad, hot hand slinksdown my waist.

“I’m sorry, for everything,” I say, needing him to know.

His kiss silences me. It’s tender and sweet, his tongue running over my lip seeking entrance, which I instantly grant. He backs me up until I’m flush between him and the wall.

“I need you,” I say into his mouth.

His response is a hungry moan, his wandering hands slipping down my thighs past the length of my short dress. My skin tingles under his fingertips as he trails them back up and cups my ass, pulling me even closer, crushing our chests together.

Strong hands grip and lift me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, ankles locking together. My lips glide over his jaw, then gradually up to his ear. “Bedroom,” I murmur, needing him, desperate to seal the connection between us.

My hands weave into his hair as he begins to move, turning to turn off the oven—good thinking—then carrying me across the room. I dip my head, tilting it to the side, merging our mouths, tongues flicking together with naturalpassion.

I don’t even realize we’re near the bed when he bends down, releasing me from his hold as my back meets the mattress. My legs still sealed around his hips, reluctant to let go. He doesn’t seem to mind, moving his body with mine until he’s standing at the edge of the bed leaning over me.

My hands slide down his back and up underneath his shirt, meeting warm skin, solid muscles flexing under my touch. Slowly he removes my legs, kissing away my pout, and pulls me up to a sitting position.

With a sensual caress over my breasts, tickling slightly along my ribs, he peels the dress over my head. A shiver of pleasure shakes me as I reach for him, deliberately popping each button on his shirt one by one.

Beautiful eyes filled with gentle desire watch me, his head moving forward, dipping down to my bare shoulder, where he presses his mouth. He inhales deeply, his tongue swirling over my skin while I conquer the final button. Opening his shirt, I skim my fingers down rippled abs, smoothing my palms over a strong, chiseled chest, then sliding them back up, appreciating.

Tugging my lips between my teeth, I peer up to eyes glistening with tenderness. He feels it too, wants me as much as I want him. There are no issues, no conflicts, no mess between us. We’re in the same arena, but no longer playing any games.

I shuffle back on the bed, leaving him watching me from the end. The air between us is different than any office visits. The intimacy is palpable, and mutual realization of more is understood.

My eyes drink him in as his shirt drops off his broad shoulders and hits the floor. Tugging his belt open, he makes easy work of his pants and steps out, tossing them aside as well until he’s only in black boxer briefs, his growing erecting evident, ready for me.

Taking his cue, I reach back and unhook my bra, sliding it down my arms, then raise my hips, hands on my panties, ready to remove them as well when he moves up the bed and catches my wrist, stopping me.

“Let me,” he croons.

My smile is relaxed, my heart swelling. He’s not just my doctor anymore. He’s so much more.

His touch is gentle, feather light, when he parts mylegs and settles between my thighs. Leaning down to press kisses over my hips, then lower, to each side of my panties, he worships me with a hot, seeking mouth before hooking his fingers in the tiny fabric and sliding them down.

“Mhmm.” My head falls back, spine arching.

The teasing continues, open mouthed kisses raining down my inner thigh then stopping at my knee, moving to the other leg and skimming back up until his lips graze where the throbbing is nearly audible—my sweltering center aches for him, all of him.

The kiss there is brief, a whisper of a touch, and then he’s sliding his body back up over mine.He takes my face in his hands and stares down at me as though I’m a treasure, precious and rare. My leg tangles with his, foot stroking up and down his taut calf, hands raking through his hair and trailing down over his back.

I lift my head and skim my tongue over his bottom lip, where he nips it between his lips, inciting my playful giggle. His erection molds into my thigh and I shift under him, maneuvering so it’s right where I need it, upon my center, only a single piece of fabric separating us.

His mouth snares mine, dancing in beautiful rhythmwhile my wicked hands move down his side, past his hips, working at his briefs, my feet meeting them half way down and rolling them the rest the way off.

Together, so close, his swollen cock slides against my core.

He rests his forehead against mine, eyes on me, and I know what he needs to hear. What we both want, both feel. It’s undeniable and has been for far too long. They’re the easiest words I’ve ever spoken, honest and raw.

“I love you, Brady,” I confess in a murmur, tears prickling. My hand seeks his, fingers entwining.

He drags our joined hands up between us and kisses my knuckles with a sigh. “It’s always been you, Moe. I’ve loved you longer than anything else in my life.”

With that, he slips inside me, stretching me, filling me, claiming me as his, which I am.

And always have been.

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