Page 72 of His To Unravel
My mouth crashes onto hers, fierce and hungry. She clings to my shoulders, her fingers digging in as if she can’t bear even a moment’s separation.
She meets my hunger with her own. Little whimpers and moans spill from her lips without a hint of restraint, setting my blood alight with need.
I deepen the kiss, my hands skimming down her sides, gripping her waist hard enough to bruise. She gasps when I pull her onto my lap so that her luscious thighs straddle mine.
My lips leave hers, trailing down her jaw to her neck, tasting the delicate skin there. In response, she begins grinding down against me, swiftly making me painfully hard.
“Fuck,” I breathe against her throat as she tilts her head to give me better access.
She’s panting now, her fingers tangling in my hair as I bite down gently on the sensitive spot just beneath her ear.
Her reaction is unlike anything I’ve heard before—a low, wanton moan that leaves no doubt she’s surrendered completely. The sound shoots through me like lightning, going straight to my dick.
I want to hear more of it, so I move to her collarbone, nipping at the soft curve there. She rewards me with a breathless whimper, her hips pressing harder against me in response.
My hands, already buried beneath the hem of the oversized sweater—mysweater—move with purpose, dragging roughly over the smooth skin of her back as though I can brand myself onto her.
She gave herself to me, and I want to tear through every layer of my gift until there’s nothing left but her bare, perfect surrender.
The fabric gathers easily beneath my palms as I ease the sweaterover her head, my eyes greedily roving over every inch of skin revealed. My gaze drops instantly to the swell of her breasts—bare, no bra.
A low growl rumbles in my throat. “You weren’t wearing anything under this the whole time?” I ask, letting the sweater drop carelessly to the floor.
Her lips quirk as she brushes her hair back coyly. “It’s more comfortable,” she replies breezily, feigning innocence, though the blush creeping across her chest betrays her.
“More comfortable,” I echo darkly.
I don’t even try to hide the way my eyes devour her. Her breasts—perfect, soft, flushed—are crowned by tight, aching peaks that practically beg for my mouth.
I palm one appreciatively, then the other, my thumb brushing over her nipple. She gasps, arching into my touch, her body offering itself without thought.
Mine,I think savagely.
I lower my head and take her into my mouth, savoring the way she shudders against me, the way her fingers thread desperately into my hair. Her sweet little whimper shoots straight to my cock.
I drag my mouth away with a final flick of my tongue over her nipple, feeling her tremble, and let my hands drift lower—following the curve of her hips until I reach the waistband of her leggings.
“Let’s see what else you find comfortable,” I murmur.
I don’t wait for her permission. I hook my fingers in the fabric, pulling hard enough that the material slides over her skin in one swift motion. She shifts just enough to help me, lifting her hips as the leggings slip lower. And when they pool at her ankles, I realize—no panties.
My breath stills as my hands run along the smooth expanse of her legs. “Jesus, Olivia,” I rasp, staring ravenously at her pussy—bare and glistening, aching for me.
She leans in to press her lips to mine again, and I sink into her mouth, kissing her back long and deep as I wrap an arm around her body and pull her tighter against me. The need to be inside her hits hard and sudden.
Without breaking the kiss, I grip her hips, holding her to me as I rise from the couch. She gasps softly against my lips, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively as I carry her across the room.
I kneel, lowering her carefully onto the plush rug in front of the fireplace. The second her back meets the floor, my hands are already at the hem of my shirt. I strip it away without hesitation, along with my pants and briefs, desperate to feel her skin against mine.
She’s spread out before me like an offering I can’t resist. I slowly rake my gaze over her, drinking my fill of her supple curves while I stroke my cock.
I rise and turn to grab a condom from the bedroom.
“No, don’t go!” Olivia calls out.
I stop and turn back toward her.
“I don’t want anything between us. Not anymore.” She reaches between her legs and uses two fingers to part her slick folds, baring herself to me. “Fuck me bare, Nate. Please, I want to feel all of you.”
