Page 45 of My Grumpy Fire Chief Next Door
She stands there proudly and unashamed.
Bare. Glowing. The soft, golden light from the kitchen hits her skin just right, painting shadows across the lift of her breasts, down the dip of her waist, following the lines of her hips.
She’s perfect, too perfect, soft curves and flushed skin, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, nipples tight and begging for my mouth.
I run the back of my knuckles along her side, from the soft fullness of her breast down to the sharp point of her hip, slow enough to memorize every inch of her. Her skin is warm and smooth, and she shivers under my touch. She stares at me, eyes dark and half-lidded. Her lips still wet from mine.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathe. “No, you’re the most perfect woman I’ve ever seen.”
I lean forward to kiss the hollow of her throat, feeling the rapid thud of her pulse. My lips trace down between her breasts, lingering there before moving lower, making a path along her stomach. Her skin shivers under each kiss.
Her breathing quickens as I work my way back up, cupping one breast in my hand while trailing kisses across the swell of the other.
Her nipple is taut and inviting in front of me.
I can feel her body quiver as I circle the peak with my tongue, teasing it relentlessly before pulling it into my mouth. Her back arches in response, pressing her breast against my lips, urgingme to take more of her. I can hear a soft moan escape her lips, and it spurs me on, igniting a deeper hunger in me.
I shift my focus to the other breast, giving it the same attention, savoring the taste and feel of her skin. Her fingers tangle in my hair as I feast on her, tugging gently as if she can't bear for me to stop. Her body moves beneath mine, restless and eager, and I know she's waiting for me to explore every part of her.
As I release her breast from my mouth, I kiss my way back down slowly, this time lingering over each spot like it's new and unexplored. Her stomach trembles with each touch of my lips, and I trace teasing circles there before moving up to her other breast.
I flick my tongue over it before taking it into my mouth and savoring the taste of her skin. Her back arches, pressing herself into me as I run my other hand over her side. I release her nipple with a gentle tug, then move lower again, kissing every inch of her bare skin, feeling her shiver beneath each kiss.
I bend, one arm sliding under her thighs, the other around her back, and lift her off the floor. She melts into me without a fight, her head resting against my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck, sending goosebumps racing across my skin.
I can feel the press of her bare body against me, all soft curves and silky heat, and it makes me ache in ways I’ve never known. I carry her through toward the living room slowly, trying to draw the moment out and make it last.
When I reach the couch, I lower her down carefully, like she’s made of glass, and step back enough to take her in. She lies there, stretched out against the worn cushions, bare skin kissed by the faintest glow of light spilling through the doorway.
Her hair’s a wild halo, lips parted, breath quick and shallow. She’s flushed, eyes dark and fixed on me, every inch of herinviting and electric. My pulse pounds in my ears, and I know with bone-deep certainty—no one else could ever come close.
She’s stretched out against the worn fabric of the couch like a damn dream, bare skin soft and glowing under the lazy spill of light; her hair has somehow slipped out of its messy bun, and it’s tumbling wild around her shoulders like she’d been kissed by a storm outside.
Her legs shift, one knee bent, the other stretched long, and the motion draws my eyes lower—to where her waist narrows, where her hips promise softness, where her thighs tempt. My mouth goes dry. My fingers twitch at my sides, aching for the feel of her again.
She looks up at me, eyes dark, pupils blown wide, mouth parted like she’s still catching her breath or maybe daring me to come closer. The little pink tip of her tongue peeks out, wetting her bottom lip, and I swear the sound I let out is more growl than breath.
Her gaze stays locked on mine, steady and unflinching, as I lower myself to my knees in front of her, hands sliding along her bare calves, up over the smooth, toned slope of her thighs. Her skin is flushed and velvet-smooth beneath my palms, her breath catching when my fingers ghost along the inside of her thigh-so close, but not yet where we both need me to be.
I lean in, pressing a kiss above her knee, then another higher, tracing a slow, reverent path along the soft landscape of her body. Her hands thread into my hair again, fingers tightening, pulling me closer.
The little sounds that slip past her lips are enough to undo me, soft, breathy whimpers that leave me strung so tight I feel like I’m hanging by a thread.
I ease myself up over her, caging her in beneath me, one hand braced by her head, the other trailing slow along the line of her collarbone, over the swell of her breast, my thumb brushingover the hardened peak until she arches into me, helpless and wanting.
Her legs part, welcoming me, her silky, bare skin sliding against the cotton of my sweatpants, and it’s all I can do not to lose control. I lower my forehead to hers, my breath tangled with hers, and let myself hover there, feeling the sharp, electric beat of the moment.
Her hands frame my face, soft palms against the sharp line of my jaw, thumbs brushing the stubble like she’s trying to memorize me. I look down at her; this woman has burrowed her way under my skin until I couldn’t shake her loose, even if I tried.
Her hands fist tighter in my hair, pulling me back to her mouth, and our lips crash together again-hungry, desperate and aching for more than just release. There's an edge to this kiss, raw and reckless, like everything we've been holding back is breaking loose all at once.
Her tongue invades my mouth, dancing with mine, and I groan, my hands tightening on her waist, pulling her closer until there is no space between us. I can feel her heat, her wetness, pressing against my stomach, and it’s all I can do not to take her right there.
She moans softly into my mouth, her body arching into mine, and I feel her nails dig into my scalp, a sharp contrast to the softness of her lips. Her response is primal and urgent; it fuels my own desire, pushing me to the edge of control.
Breaking the kiss momentarily, I trail kisses along her jawline, down her neck, savoring the taste of her skin. Her pulse throbs beneath my lips, a steady beat that matches the rhythm of my own heart.
“Noah,” she whispers, her voice breathless, pleading.
