Chapter 46
She gripped his upper arms as he lowered her back to the couch cushions. Her fingers curled around his rock-hard biceps.
“Are you sure?”
Not trusting her voice, she nodded. “Yes,” she said when he didn’t move.
No sooner had the words left her mouth than he smiled then dipped his head. His lips brushed over hers. It should have been a chaste kiss, but his restrained passion was evident.
He lifted his head and stared at her with that fire in his eyes.
Using his arms as leverage, she raised up and pressed her lips against his. Wherever they touched, her body felt like an inferno was raging through it. She liked it.
No, she loved it. She loved him ?
That thought was swept away as he tugged her even closer. Her breasts pressed against his chest and she hated the barrier between them, even if it was only a few thin layers of fabric.
“Hi,” she said when she pulled back to catch her breath. She suddenly felt shy, though she didn’t drop her gaze.
“Hi.” He lowered his head again to scatter kisses on her lips. Her forehead. The tip of her nose. When his breath tickled her eyelashes, she laughed.
“I like hearing you laugh,” he admitted, his words a murmur in her ear.
Her cheeks turned pink and she didn’t know how to respond.
But she didn’t need to.
Aleks’s lips were butterfly soft as they pressed against hers. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you tonight.”
In a move too quick for her to register, he shifted their positions. Suddenly, she was pressed full-length between the back of the couch and his body. Her cheek rested on one of his arms, while his fingers played with her hair. His other arm was securely wrapped around her waist, pressing them together.
She splayed one of her hands over his chest, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt with the other. She hitched one leg over his hip, anchoring them together, pelvis to pelvis. She rocked slowly, experimentally, and they both groaned.
Her other arm snaked around his neck and she used that leverage to guide his mouth to hers.
Their earlier kisses had been soft. Playful. This one wasn’t.
He’d offered himself to her and she was claiming him.
After the briefest moment of surprise, he kissed her back. His mouth was relentless over hers. She stopped knowing—stopped caring—where she ended and he began.
He pulled away, sucked in a deep breath and asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Her consent was breathless.
His hand gripped the bottom of her shirt and slid it slowly, so slowly, up her back. His knuckles skimmed over her bare skin. His touch was a brand and she arched into it, practically purring.
By some miracle of acrobatics, they managed to free her from her shirt without losing contact.
“Your turn,” she whispered, then nipped his neck.
Her fingers loosened their grip on his belt and dipped below his waistband, scrabbling to free his shirt.
After a little fumbling, she found his shirttail and tugged it from his pants. He growled against her mouth when her fingers slipped under the smooth material and met the bare skin of his back.
He was like a living flame, his body radiating heat. If she got too close, she might burn.
And god, did she want to burn!
Her hand slid up his back, enjoying the play of muscles, as they tasted and touched each other.
Pressed together as they were, she couldn’t manage the buttons on his shirt. She wanted skin to skin.
Wanted full body contact.
Breaking their kiss nearly killed her. She only lifted her lips enough to demand, “Off. Now.”
His laugh was a rumble against her body.
She helped—tried to help?—by shoving the material up the side. But that only freed a painfully small portion of his torso.
He flicked open the buttons, then performed a magical combination of shimmy and pull to remove it. He tossed the shirt over the back of the couch and pulled her close. “Better?”
“Yesss.” She sighed.
She reveled in his heat. In his touch.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples diamond-hard points. He felt so good, but it wasn’t enough.
As if he had read her mind, his hand skimmed up her side, leaving devastating shivers in its wake. When she thought her skin couldn’t get any more sensitive, her breath couldn’t come any faster, he slid his hand between their bodies and cupped her breast.
“Ohmygod.” Heat pooled between her legs and she shifted restlessly against him.
There were still too many clothes in the way. She wanted skin. Lots and lots of skin.
All the skin.
“Bed, please!” she gasped.
His smile nearly killed her. “Whatever you say.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before they were moving. He lifted her easily and Portia hooked her ankles together, getting a good grip on his waist. One of his hands palmed her ass, pressing her center closer against him. The friction as he carried her toward the bedroom was delicious.
She had a moment of trepidation as he carried her across the threshold of the bedroom.
He sensed her hesitation and stopped instantly. “Still okay?”
Although lust still fizzed in her veins, she took a moment to seriously consider his question. “There’s never been anyone in here but me and Tommy.”
His gaze never left hers. “We can stop.”
She nibbled on her lip. His eyes followed her actions and heat flared in them. “No. It’s okay. I promise.”
He took her at her word.
She thought that he was going to lay her down on the bed, but she was wrong. He settled on the mattress, with her straddling his legs. He lay back, leaving her on top. His arms slid from her waist, his palms smoothing down the outside of her thighs then slipping around to caress the curve of her butt.
She knelt over him as he lay on the bed. No longer kissing—not for the moment, at least—but still exploring. Her palms spread over his chest, kneading the muscles, while his fingertips dipped beneath the waistband of her leggings. They were both still wearing too many clothes.
“You’re making me do all the work here,” she teased.
His devilish grin set fire to her blood. “Oh, I can fix that.” His hands gripped her hips and he feinted like he was about to flip them.
“Don’t you dare,” she threatened. “I’m enjoying it up here.” Every wiggle increased the delicious hard length between her thighs.
She scooted farther up his body. Reaching behind her back, she grabbed his hands. Lacing their fingers together, she pulled them forward and then above his head. “Stay,” she commanded.
That wicked smile again.
With a smile just as wicked, she braced her hands on either side of his torso and dropped her mouth to one of his nipples. He arced off the bed with a groan. “You don’t play fair.”
She knew it wasn’t a complaint. Nipping, teasing, exploring. She did all that and more. She was working his way up to his mouth when his phone rang.
She froze, her lips hovering over his. That ring tone... She knew it by heart now. Mr. and Mrs. Fucking Solveig.
With a groan, she rolled to the side and dropped onto the mattress.
“I suppose you have to get that,” she said as he sat up and pulled his phone from his pocket. How the hell could they make a relationship work if he was always at their beck and call?
“Nope.” He silenced the call and dropped the phone onto the floor. “I’m all yours, remember?”
“Really?” Was that hope that she felt fluttering in her chest?
“Really.” He grinned down at her. “Now where were we? Right about here,” he said as he knelt over her and reached for the waistband of her leggings. He slid them down her legs while Portia moaned and giggled.