Kennedy arched into his caress, her breath catching in a throaty little sound that made his pulse thrum and his cock go rock hard.
There was no mistaking his response to her. Not with her rear settled right against the obvious ridge.
She squirmed, the curve of her ass torturing him in new and delightful ways.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice gruff.
Twisting her head, she stared up at him out of those delicious whiskey eyes. Heat rolled through him, matching the blaze of honeyed need he recognized in hers.
Kennedy shook her head, a denial that was probably too late for either of them to heed. Asher placed his hands on her hips, ready to push her away and do the right thing. He was playing with fire here. This wasn’t going to end well for either of them.
But before he could follow through, she moved up, threaded her fingers into his hair and dragged his head down to hers. Her mouth sealed to his, hard and insistent. Unyielding. Fighting for control of the moment.
If any other woman had kissed him that way he probably would have walked away. He liked being in control, needed it to feel comfortable and in charge of the situation. There was nothing comfortable about what he felt for Kennedy. Nothing easy.
This was all kinds of messed up. Jackson was going to kill him if he ever found out. But Asher couldn’t seem to muster up the will to care. Not right now anyway.
He’d fantasized about Kennedy’s mouth for a long time—deep kisses, teasing and soft licks of her tongue, those dark pink lips stretched around his hard...
A groan rolled up from deep inside his chest. Shit , he thought, right before giving in.
Bracketing her face with his palms, he pulled her closer. He needed a deeper taste. If he was doing this, he was damn well doing it right.
Angling her head, he licked at her lips, enjoying the way she opened for him, eager for whatever came next.
“Goddammit,” he whispered right before diving inside the moist heat of her mouth.
The moment swirled around them. The scent of her enveloped him. She tasted sweet and forbidden. Like the most decadent dessert. The kind of thing you were only supposed to indulge in once in a while but always craved.
Kennedy wasn’t the kind of woman to sit idly and let a man take over. Even as he maneuvered her head, she was shifting her body. Crawling into his lap without losing their connection. Taking just as much as giving.
Her tongue tangled with his, matching him stroke for stroke. Her hands wandered over his shoulders, flipping the buttons on his shirt until she could find bare skin.
A hungry little sound rolled through her throat.
Asher drank it up, keeping it all for himself.
Spreading her thighs, she settled her hips right over him, grinding down on his already throbbing erection.
Her hands raced across his skin, touching, teasing, driving him insane. With a gentle yank, she shoved his shirt down his arms to pool on the bed beside them.
Everything was a red haze, clouding out reality and any scrap of decency he’d been trying to cling to. His only thought was to finally have what he wanted. Her.
His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, pulling it off over her head and throwing it across the room, uncaring where it might land.
Pulling back, Asher let his gaze roam down her exposed body. Her bra was beige, but there was nothing plain about the way it cupped her breasts, pushing them high enough to make his mouth water. He could see the tight pink centers begging for attention through the thin fabric.
Leaning down, he sucked one deep into his mouth, relishing the soft cry of pleasure that fell from her parted lips.
Her fingers tightened where she gripped his shoulders. Her hips bucked as he lightly scraped his teeth across the distended nipple.
He could feel the heat of her as she rocked against him, searching for a relief he needed just as much. Reaching between them, he found the wet heat of her desire soaking through the thin barrier
There was no mistaking his response to her. Not with her rear settled right against the obvious ridge.
She squirmed, the curve of her ass torturing him in new and delightful ways.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice gruff.
Twisting her head, she stared up at him out of those delicious whiskey eyes. Heat rolled through him, matching the blaze of honeyed need he recognized in hers.
Kennedy shook her head, a denial that was probably too late for either of them to heed. Asher placed his hands on her hips, ready to push her away and do the right thing. He was playing with fire here. This wasn’t going to end well for either of them.
But before he could follow through, she moved up, threaded her fingers into his hair and dragged his head down to hers. Her mouth sealed to his, hard and insistent. Unyielding. Fighting for control of the moment.
If any other woman had kissed him that way he probably would have walked away. He liked being in control, needed it to feel comfortable and in charge of the situation. There was nothing comfortable about what he felt for Kennedy. Nothing easy.
This was all kinds of messed up. Jackson was going to kill him if he ever found out. But Asher couldn’t seem to muster up the will to care. Not right now anyway.
He’d fantasized about Kennedy’s mouth for a long time—deep kisses, teasing and soft licks of her tongue, those dark pink lips stretched around his hard...
A groan rolled up from deep inside his chest. Shit , he thought, right before giving in.
Bracketing her face with his palms, he pulled her closer. He needed a deeper taste. If he was doing this, he was damn well doing it right.
Angling her head, he licked at her lips, enjoying the way she opened for him, eager for whatever came next.
“Goddammit,” he whispered right before diving inside the moist heat of her mouth.
The moment swirled around them. The scent of her enveloped him. She tasted sweet and forbidden. Like the most decadent dessert. The kind of thing you were only supposed to indulge in once in a while but always craved.
Kennedy wasn’t the kind of woman to sit idly and let a man take over. Even as he maneuvered her head, she was shifting her body. Crawling into his lap without losing their connection. Taking just as much as giving.
Her tongue tangled with his, matching him stroke for stroke. Her hands wandered over his shoulders, flipping the buttons on his shirt until she could find bare skin.
A hungry little sound rolled through her throat.
Asher drank it up, keeping it all for himself.
Spreading her thighs, she settled her hips right over him, grinding down on his already throbbing erection.
Her hands raced across his skin, touching, teasing, driving him insane. With a gentle yank, she shoved his shirt down his arms to pool on the bed beside them.
Everything was a red haze, clouding out reality and any scrap of decency he’d been trying to cling to. His only thought was to finally have what he wanted. Her.
His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, pulling it off over her head and throwing it across the room, uncaring where it might land.
Pulling back, Asher let his gaze roam down her exposed body. Her bra was beige, but there was nothing plain about the way it cupped her breasts, pushing them high enough to make his mouth water. He could see the tight pink centers begging for attention through the thin fabric.
Leaning down, he sucked one deep into his mouth, relishing the soft cry of pleasure that fell from her parted lips.
Her fingers tightened where she gripped his shoulders. Her hips bucked as he lightly scraped his teeth across the distended nipple.
He could feel the heat of her as she rocked against him, searching for a relief he needed just as much. Reaching between them, he found the wet heat of her desire soaking through the thin barrier
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