Their teeth bumped, and they smiled against each other’s lips.
Her hands found his shirt, and she pulled at the buttons, opening his shirt, suddenly desperate to touch his skin. The heat of his body made her wonder if he had a fever, but then she remembered what he’d said about shifters having a higher body temperature than regular humans. A spattering of soft, dark hair created a triangle between his nipples. A line ran down from his chest, between the valley of his abdominals to his navel and then disappearing down the waistband of his pants. She felt like the trail of hair was enticing her to follow.
One of Peter’s hands was at the back of her neck, his fingers raking through her short dark hair. He shucked the shirt from his back and broke their kiss to pull her t-shirt over her head. How long has it been since I’ve been naked with a man? Too long. She felt a little self-conscious, standing in front of him just in her jeans and bra, the lacy material doing little to cover the curves of her breasts. She moved to cover her chest with one arm, but Peter caught her hand, pulling her arm down to her side. She caught his eyes, how they’d grown darker, an intensity bubbling behind them like storm clouds building.
“Don’t cover yourself,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re perfect.”
From out of nowhere, everything she’d been through over the past few days, from the abduction to the attack downtown, swept over her. It was as if finding herself in Peter’s arms had subconsciously allowed her to release her emotions.
“I was so frightened.” She was on the edge of tears, the world trembling before her.
He pulled her to him, her cheek pressed against his chest as he smoothed her hair beneath his palm. “Shush, don’t be. You were safe. I could never let anything happen to you.”
With a smile, she lifted her face to him. He kissed her again before taking her by the hand and tugging her into the nearest room—which turned out to be the living room—and toward the couch.
He gathered her against him, capturing her mouth once more. His kiss was deep and sweet, his tongue dancing with hers with almost expert teasing. Had she ever been kissed in such a way? The heat of his skin seared her flesh, and with one quick movement he’d unclasped her bra, allowing it to fall from her body onto the floor.
Both their hands were at the buttons of each other’s pants, desperate to remove the clothing still dividing them. They kicked off their shoes and helped each other with their remaining clothing. Naked, Peter took her by the hand once more and tugged her down to the couch so that she straddled his thighs. She reached between them, cupping his hard length in her palm. His skin felt silky and hot, and she stroked him, making him groan and lean his head against the back of the couch, exposing the sharp line of his jaw, the delicate skin of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
Mia ducked down and ran her tongue across his jaw, licking and nibbling, tasting the faint hint of whatever aftershave he’d put on that morning, the more masculine, earthy taste of his skin. She worked her way down his body, stopping briefly at his nipples to lave them with her tongue, before lowering herself back off the couch so she knelt on the floor. She opened her mouth and took him between her lips, drawing him in. Peter groaned again, one arm flung across his eyes, as if he needed to hide his desire from her. He thrust his hips to meet the movement of her mouth. His other hand lightly touched the back of her neck, encouraging her.
His breath quickened and he pulled himself straighter on the couch, touching her shoulder. “Mia, stop. You’re going to make me …”
She lifted her mouth from him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever say sorry for doing that. I just want to be inside you.”
He pulled her up with him and carefully reclined her on the couch, as though she were fragile and he
Her hands found his shirt, and she pulled at the buttons, opening his shirt, suddenly desperate to touch his skin. The heat of his body made her wonder if he had a fever, but then she remembered what he’d said about shifters having a higher body temperature than regular humans. A spattering of soft, dark hair created a triangle between his nipples. A line ran down from his chest, between the valley of his abdominals to his navel and then disappearing down the waistband of his pants. She felt like the trail of hair was enticing her to follow.
One of Peter’s hands was at the back of her neck, his fingers raking through her short dark hair. He shucked the shirt from his back and broke their kiss to pull her t-shirt over her head. How long has it been since I’ve been naked with a man? Too long. She felt a little self-conscious, standing in front of him just in her jeans and bra, the lacy material doing little to cover the curves of her breasts. She moved to cover her chest with one arm, but Peter caught her hand, pulling her arm down to her side. She caught his eyes, how they’d grown darker, an intensity bubbling behind them like storm clouds building.
“Don’t cover yourself,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re perfect.”
From out of nowhere, everything she’d been through over the past few days, from the abduction to the attack downtown, swept over her. It was as if finding herself in Peter’s arms had subconsciously allowed her to release her emotions.
“I was so frightened.” She was on the edge of tears, the world trembling before her.
He pulled her to him, her cheek pressed against his chest as he smoothed her hair beneath his palm. “Shush, don’t be. You were safe. I could never let anything happen to you.”
With a smile, she lifted her face to him. He kissed her again before taking her by the hand and tugging her into the nearest room—which turned out to be the living room—and toward the couch.
He gathered her against him, capturing her mouth once more. His kiss was deep and sweet, his tongue dancing with hers with almost expert teasing. Had she ever been kissed in such a way? The heat of his skin seared her flesh, and with one quick movement he’d unclasped her bra, allowing it to fall from her body onto the floor.
Both their hands were at the buttons of each other’s pants, desperate to remove the clothing still dividing them. They kicked off their shoes and helped each other with their remaining clothing. Naked, Peter took her by the hand once more and tugged her down to the couch so that she straddled his thighs. She reached between them, cupping his hard length in her palm. His skin felt silky and hot, and she stroked him, making him groan and lean his head against the back of the couch, exposing the sharp line of his jaw, the delicate skin of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
Mia ducked down and ran her tongue across his jaw, licking and nibbling, tasting the faint hint of whatever aftershave he’d put on that morning, the more masculine, earthy taste of his skin. She worked her way down his body, stopping briefly at his nipples to lave them with her tongue, before lowering herself back off the couch so she knelt on the floor. She opened her mouth and took him between her lips, drawing him in. Peter groaned again, one arm flung across his eyes, as if he needed to hide his desire from her. He thrust his hips to meet the movement of her mouth. His other hand lightly touched the back of her neck, encouraging her.
His breath quickened and he pulled himself straighter on the couch, touching her shoulder. “Mia, stop. You’re going to make me …”
She lifted her mouth from him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever say sorry for doing that. I just want to be inside you.”
He pulled her up with him and carefully reclined her on the couch, as though she were fragile and he
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