Page 79 of Altius
A flushed Morgan leaned against the doorframe. She was wearing a short, slinky green robe tied so loosely it might as well have been hanging open. Hooking a finger in the collar of my sweatshirt, she tugged me across the threshold.
“Think of this like practice.” She shut the door behind us. “Turn your brain off and just sweat.”
I didn’t buy it, not with the tension in her neck and the lack of eye contact.
“How’s that working for you?”
“Like crap.” Morgan ran a hand through her sweat-tinged hair. “But it’s the best I’ve got.”
Okay, so we were both nervous. That was…
A fact. I could use facts.
Owen had just been rattling some off, like the location of the lube and vibrator stash. Maybe we should start there. A little toy action. Yeah. Less of a chance to make a fool of myself that way.
Morgan took my hand, scattering my nonsensical thoughts across the plush carpeting as she guided me to the vast mattress in an arched recess. The heart of her nest.
As I leaned in, aiming for a kiss, she sidestepped my advance.
“Sit down.”
And I did.
Huh, maybe this wasn’t so hard.
If Morgan asked, I would obey. If Morgan wanted, I would provide. Don’t question why she doesn’t want to kiss you. Simple as that.
Morgan moved between my legs. Tentatively settling my hands on her hips, I ran my thumbs along the satin fabric while drinking in the view with a heated gaze. The deep plunge of the neckline, the copious amount of skin on display, the fullness of her figure, the peaks of her nipples…
And her scent.
Circling my arms around her, I pulled Morgan close, burying my face in her torso, and inhaled.
Long. Deep. Hungry.
Then again. And again.
Filling my lungs with her pheromones while Morgan ran her hands through my hair.
Orchid with a touch of spice and an undercurrent of caramelized vanilla. So delectable, so bewitching, and temporarily free of the rotten undertone. I fell under her spell all over again as her scent grew stronger, almost humid, like burying your face in an armful of exotic hothouse flowers.
Because Morgan was burning up.
Beads of sweat trailed down her neck. The fabric of her robe was no longer cool to the touch. It clung to the crux of her thighs and the undersides of her breasts.
She wasn’t entirely lost to her heat, but she was getting there.
As she leaned down, her robe slipped open even more, but the tantalizing view was blocked when she pulled my sweatshirt up over my head and tossed it aside.
Morgan let out a throaty half-moan as she drank me in. Her hands trailed up my biceps before diving down across my pecs, then lower, tracing the Olympic rings tattooed on the right side of my ribs. And then lower still, down across my abs, pausing on my waistband.
Not sure if she was hesitating for my sake or because her rational mind was trying to catch up with her desires, I leaned back on one elbow. Lifting my butt, I started to ease off my shorts.
When Morgan stroked the V-lines cut into my hips, I paused, ready to follow her lead. Her heated touches continued even as she pulled off my shorts and boxers.
“Fuck.” Staring at my hardening cock—about average in length but as thick as the rest of me—Morgan knelt between my thighs. “I was not expecting all ofthat. Can…can I?”
I nodded, deciding to tease her a bit. Seemed like a decent way to keep from exploding.
