Page 81 of Darn Knit All

“I mean,” I said with a laugh, “kiss me.”

“Fuck yes.” His head bent until his mouth hovered mere breaths above my own. “For the record,” he said, his whisper hot against my lips,“I’m consenting to everything.”

Our mouths collided, hungry and desperate. The walls around our attraction seemed to burst as years of pent-up tension ignited.

Theo shifted, deepening our kiss, his tongue teasing mine as his hands brushed over my back. My fingers slid into his hair, tugging him closer.

I wanted his hands on me, his fingers in me. I wanted him touching and caressing, teasing and taunting. I wanted him today, tomorrow, every day.

Unlike most decisions in my life, this felt easy. I’d expected panic but instead felt oddly at peace, a wash of calm and the feeling of coming home settling in me, body, heart and mind.

His fingertips danced across my skin and I lost myself in the sensation. I adjusted the angle of our kiss to nip at his lip, and relished his guttural groan.

The newness of our embrace mixed with the familiarity of Theo to become a strange riptide of languid, delicious lust.

Theo.

His hands slid down my back to settle on my hips, yanking me closer. I groaned at his possessiveness, relishing the way he made me feel.

Our tongues danced together, exploring each other’s mouth with a near desperate hunger. God, how long had this been brewing? How long had it been simmering under the surface, both of us too afraid to act.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured against me between kisses. “To touch you, taste you.”

I tangled my free hand in his hair, tugging him up until his face was level with mine, our breath mingling. “Kiss me.”

“Gladly.”

His mouth returned to mine, hot and demanding. I opened for him eagerly, desperate for more.

He shuffled us until my thighs hit the edge of the table. With a sweep of his arm, he sent the candles and papers scattering to the floor. Then he lifted me, laying me out on the tabletop like a pagan offering.

“Wait! Your leg!”

“Fuck my leg,” he growled against my mouth. “It’s not the part of me aching right now.”

I’d always assumed Theo would be a gentle lover, mixing humor with sensual teasing. Instead, he became a dominant frothing beast, controlling me and my body even as he lost his self-control.

I loved it.

“You’re overdressed,” he growled, eyes raking over me. His hands found the hem of my shirt and ripped it over my head. My bra quickly followed, baring me to his hungry gaze.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, cupping my breasts in his large hands. He rolled my nipples between his fingers and I cried out, arching into his touch. “Fucking perfect.”

“Theo,” I whispered, and his gaze flicked up to meet mine. In their depths, I saw my own need reflected back at me, raw and undisguised.

“Let me make you feel good.”

I swallowed, nodding as anticipation unfurled in my belly.

“Words, Mai. I need the words.”

“Yes. Please.”

His dark chuckle danced across my skin as he lowered his head to my breasts. I gasped as I felt his tongue, hot and wet, tracing the delicate flesh of my areolas. He laved my skin, his teeth grazing gently as bolts of pleasure shimmied down to pool deep in my abdomen.

“I want to taste all of you,” he rumbled against my breast. “I want to see you covered in my marks.”

A broken moan escaped me at the thought. “Yes.”

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