Page 108 of Merry Me
I groaned, low and rough, as my hands slid instinctively to her waist. She tasted like peppermint gum and something sweeter, something distinctly, painfully her. Her tongue sweptinto my mouth, bold and possessive, and I nearly lost my balance from how fast my body responded.
She was everywhere. Fingers in my hair. Chest pressed to mine. The need in her kiss wasn’t a wildfire. It was pressure, years of it, finally blowing the lid off with nothing left to contain it but my body.
“Fuck, Nat—” I groaned, dragging my mouth from hers just enough to breathe, my hands sliding up beneath her sweater, palms splayed against bare skin. “This isn’t a dream, right?—”
“Shut up,” she growled.
Her hands fumbled for my coat zipper, yanking it down with a desperation that sent a thrill racing along my spine.
“I need you,” she said, fierce and breathless. “Right now.” My heart jackknifed in my chest.
There was nothing casual in her voice. No hesitation. Just raw, undeniable hunger.
I shrugged out of my coat, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. She was already tugging me back to her, and I didn’t fight it. I couldn’t.
I kissed her again—harder this time—everything I’d held back since the moment she left pouring into that kiss. My hands clutched her waist, gripping her like a lifeline, my hips pressing forward instinctively as she rolled hers against me.
She reached for my sweater, yanking it over my head with a roughness that I fucking loved. The bathroom’s cool air hit my bare chest, but it was nothing compared to the scorch of her palms roaming across my skin.
Her nails scraped down my abs.
I hissed through my teeth, muscles twitching beneath her touch. Her hands were frantic and hungry, like she needed to memorize every inch of me before she lost her nerve.
I didn’t wait. I shoved her coat from her shoulders, watched it tumble to the floor, then tugged her red sweater over her head in one quick motion.
And damn.
The lacy black bra. The flushed skin. The way she looked under the soft, humming light of this cramped little bathroom—eyes wild, lips swollen from kissing me, chest rising and falling in hard, shallow breaths.
She was a vision. One I’d dreamed about every damn night.
“Fuck, Nat,” I murmured, my voice low and reverent as my hands cupped her breasts through the lace. My thumbs brushed over her hardened nipples, and the feel of her beneath my palms nearly knocked the air out of me. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. My breath caught. Her bare chest rose and fell with every shallow breath, and the soft light painted every curve in gold. Her nipples were tight, peaked, and begging for me.
I leaned down, unable to resist, and took one into my mouth. My tongue circled slowly before I sucked hard, just enough to draw out a gasp that made my cock throb.
“Easton!” she cried, her hands tightening in my hair, hips shifting against me as her body trembled under my mouth. I lavished her with attention, letting my tongue flick over her nipples in a rhythm that had her gasping, moaning, desperate.
I moved to her other breast, giving it the same devotion, while my hand kneaded her first one, fingers rolling her nipple until she whimpered, her whole body alive in my arms.
“More,” she breathed, her voice cracking as her hands dropped to my jeans, fumbling with the button. “I need more, Easton. I need you.” The desperation in her voice sent a jolt straight to my cock.
Her words were like gasoline on a fire, and I groaned, helping her with my jeans as she finally got them undone, shoving them down my hips along with my boxers.
My cock sprang free, hard and aching, the tip already glistening with pre-cum, and her eyes darkened at the sight, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as she wrapped her hand around me. Her touch was electric, her fingers stroking me with a confidence that made my knees buckle, and I let out a low,guttural moan as she pumped me slowly, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head, spreading the pre-cum down my length.
“Fuck,” I growled, my hips rocking into her hand, my eyes fluttering closed for just a second before I caught her smirk. I tugged on her jeans, yanking them down with a roughness that matched hers, taking her panties with them. She stepped out, kicking them aside, and I felt my breath catch at the sight of her, completely bare before me, her thighs slick with arousal, her pussy glistening with need.
My knees hit the tile without a thought.
She opened her mouth like she might say something—maybe a warning, maybe a curse—but the second my mouth met her center, all that came out was a broken moan that ricocheted off the walls.
She tasted like heaven and everything I’d been craving.
I licked slowly, savoring the way she shivered beneath me, then parted those slick folds and circled her clit with the tip of my tongue. A sharp breath hitched in her throat. Fingers threaded through my hair, yanking me closer, thighs quaking as I licked again. And again. She moved with purpose now, grinding against my mouth like her sanity depended on it.
“Oh fuck, Easton,” she gasped, her voice broken, hips rolling with a wild rhythm that told me exactly how close she was.
