Page 29 of Make Me Yours
“You can’t do this,” Ashlyn hissed under her breath.
Aiden’s hand on her forearm relaxed her just slightly. “Leave them alone. They’re both adults.”
I smiled at Aiden and headed for the stairs. My pulse quickened with each riser and when I finally reached the top, I found Cohen lying on the bottom bunk, his hands folded behind his head and a huge smile on his face.
“What are you doing?”
“Shh. Come here.” He moved over in the tiny bed, making room for me.
I slid in next to him, very aware that the loft was open all the way to the lower floor where Aiden and the very disapproving Ashlyn were currently sitting. I snuggled close to his body and his arm snaked its way around me, holding me securely against his side.
He held my hand in his and gently caressed my palm, running his thumb along the creases there. I remembered back to our conversation about my love line, and when he first found out I was damaged goods. Not that I had told him anything useful. Nor would I. He brought my palm to his mouth and placed a kiss directly in the center.
“So…what should we do?”
I faked a yawn. “I’m pretty tired. Guess I’ll just get some sleep.” I closed my eyes, fighting off a smile.
Cohen tickled my sides wickedly, causing me to bite back a squeal and buck off the bed.
“Cohen!” I struggled to maintain my composure and swatted at his chest. The last thing I needed was Ashlyn hearing noises like that coming from up here. I was convinced she wouldn’t be above sprinting up here and physically separating me form Cohen. And somehow, that was the most depressing thought ever—one I didn’t want to reflect on any longer than was necessary. He caught my hand in his and pressed it firmly against his muscled chest. He chuckled softly. “Relax, babe.”
I pressed my hand over his mouth. “Shush.” But his smile was contagious, and soon I was grinning back at him like an idiot. Our eyes met and held for several moments, his filled with something that pulled at my chest. I pushed the feeling aside. I only wanted the physical with him—not the emotional. I couldn’t handle going there again. With anyone. Especially someone as perfect and loveable as Cohen. It would only end in heartbreak for us both.
I leaned in closer to him and let my hand fall away from his mouth. “Are you going to be good?” I whispered seductively against his lips.
He nodded, eagerly. “Anything for you.”
Oh, and I knew he would be good. He was sexy as hell without even trying. All his lean muscle and manly goodness were almost more than I could handle. Almost.
I pressed my lips to his and kissed him softly. He worked his hand under my hair, holding me firmly to him and parting my lips with his tongue.
I could already tell tonight would be different from last night. It was more of a slow build—every touch meant to soothe, every caress meant to tease, and every kiss meant to excite just a little more than the one before, but there was no catalyst like last night. In some ways I liked it more, because I knew it meant we would explore each other’s bodies for longer, without the need for a quick release, but in another way, I didn’t like that it felt like something more—something tender to be savored.
Needing to take control and change the emotion of the situation, I pushed Cohen’s shoulders down to the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his lap.
He ran his hands up my sides, lifting my shirt as he went. I raised my arms, encouraging him to remove it completely like I knew he wanted to.
His fingers skimmed lightly over the pale-pink bra I wore, dipping in between the curves, and tracing the hardened nubs beneath the fabric. My breaths came in shallow, more ragged, bursts. He watched my eyes the entire time, seeming to like the reaction he got from me, but I could tell this slow build was affecting him too. His jeans were tight across his hips and straining between us.
He finally reached back to release the clasp. My bra fell free and his sharp inhale caused a swell of pride to surge through me. Cohen’s callused hands covered my breasts with less finesse than before, as if he couldn’t restrain himself any longer, but his touch was no less exquisite. I let out a barely contained moan, not because of the sensation itself, but because of how thoroughly Cohen was enjoying himself. He leaned up on one elbow, and pressed his other hand into the small of my back, urging me to lower my breasts to his mouth. When his warm, wet tongue met my nipple and he sucked, hard, the groan that escaped my lips was most definitely of pleasure.
“Cohen,” I breathed.
His mouth pulled from my nipple with a suckling sound and he met my eyes. “Shh,” he reminded me.
I bit my lips, my cheeks reddening. I had forgotten about our surroundings—the open loft and the bedroom that was within earshot of our friends downstairs.
“Do you like it, babe?”
“Yes. Please keep going.”
He grinned and brought his mouth to my other breast, licking and teasing me while still meeting my eyes. But when I pressed my hips against his, his eyes fell closed and he released a strangled groan before pulling my nipple into his mouth.
I continued to writhe against him, teasing his hard cock between us and wishing we were naked.
After he had thoroughly feasted on my breasts and they were damp with his kisses and pinkened from the stubble of his jaw, I lowered myself, wiggling down his body until I was face-to-face with his belt buckle.
He swallowed roughly and lifted up on his elbows to watch me.
