Page 14 of 3 Stolen Kisses

So this was her plan.

I don’t hate it.

But goddamn, I’m harder than marble already; so hard my gut aches.

Ten fingertips trail down my throat, my chest, my belly, all the way down to rest on my belt. My cock swells impossibly harder, pushing against the layers of my clothing. Reaching for her.

“I know.” Ali wets her lips, and her hesitation is the first sign of nerves. “One kiss, I know. But I didn’t saywhereI’d put it, did I?”

Holy. Shit.

I wait, heart thundering, but she doesn’t move again. Ali gazes up at me, waiting for permission. Waiting for me to go along with this; to take an equal part in what we’re doing here tonight.

As if I could stop this now. I’d sooner tear out my own spine.

“Be a good girl, then,” I hear myself say, finally breaking out of my statue-still posture.Yes.This is happening. Her dark hair is silky and warm when I pet it; her little sigh when I trace her bare shoulders scrambles my brain. “Be a good girl and give me your kiss.”

Ali beams at me, lit up from the inside like I’ve just gifted her a bouquet of gorgeous flowers, and moves to kneel at my feet. I stop her first, one hand on her elbow.

“Wait.”

Her eyes widen with disappointment, but that’s not what’s happening here. I’m not changing my mind.

“Take this off.”

Her mask comes off easily, slipping off her glossy hair, and I toss it on the floor by my tie. You’d better believe—if Ali’s gonna touch me like that, gonna taste me like that, I want to seeherdoing it. Not some anonymous woman.

Need the memory to be crystal clear. Need it to last me until I’m old and gray.

Well. Older and grayer.

“Okay,” I grunt, and Ali bursts out laughing, scratching her fingers through my chest hair again. “Carry on.”

But first she rocks up onto her toes, rubbing her cheek against mine—and peels my own mask off, dropping it on the pile. The headache I’ve been carrying all night suddenly eases, and the cool air on my face feels so good and fresh.

“You’re right,” Ali says, her voice soft in the empty library. The music from the rest of the house is faint in here, and we’re alone. Finally alone again, tucked away and hidden from the door. “No masks, Saxon. I want to see your face when I do this.”

She kneels.

Inside, I die and go to heaven.

Ali’s fingers are pale and delicate as they work my belt open, the leather creaking. The buckle clinks, and my belt sags apart.

Next is my pants button. Ali bites her lip and flicks it open, glancing up at me first. The shock of her baby blues down there, peering up at me, so wide-eyed and innocent…

It nearly takes me out at the knees.

“Hurry,” I rasp, and there’s no dignity to it, no pride in the way I’m begging her, but just the sight of Alison down there on her pretty knees is enough to get me ready to blow. “Hurry.” And I want to be inside her mouth when it happens, damn it, want to feel the hot, silky slide of her tongue—

“Bossy,” Ali whispers, shaking her head with a teasing smile. “I knew you would be. Or I hoped so, anyway.”

Shit. Can’t wait.

Batting her hand out of the way, I tug my zipper down and groan with relief as my cock presses forward. It takes a few quick movements to draw it out fully, to get it in my fist, grip pumping lazily, the ruddy head aimed at Ali’s chin.

“Yes.” The word hisses between my teeth, my bare chest heaving up and down. Feels good. Looks even better with her down there, so close.

And Ali’s wide-eyed. Startled, but not afraid. No, if anything, my girl looks thrilled with this latest turn of events, and those clever eyes watch the exact way I touch myself, cataloging every detail for her own reference. She licks her lips, her pink tongue flashing in and out of view, and I watch, dumbstruck, as my hand fists in her hair. As it guides her wet little mouth to my cock. Am I really doing this?

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