“Why?” I keep playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, grinding my seeking hips into the air, needing something. “Because every little thing you do makes me wet?”
“Jesus,” he groans. “Because now, all I can think about is fucking you.”
“Then stop thinking about it and do it.”
He chuckles without humor. “You’re so much fucking trouble, Miller.” His eyes meet mine again, our noses brushing. “What happens if I become addicted?”
“Then lucky us, we still have a month to indulge in that kind of addiction.”
“You really think I could quit you after it’s all done?”
I nod with enthusiasm, hoping to convince him. “I’m easily forgettable.”
“You’re a little liar tonight, huh?”
Hooking my ankles around the back of his thighs, I pull him into the cradle of my hips. “Just don’t let it mean anything and we’ll both be fine.”
A flash of annoyance passes over him before he gives in and seals his mouth to mine.
Inhaling, I pull him closer, deepening the kiss. My entire body is on fire as his palms coast over the raised skin of my legs, grabbing my ass, his tongue slipping easily into my mouth.
He rolls his hips into mine, his erection giving me just enough friction that a needy cry slips from my throat.
Kai swallows the sounds with a gravelly groan of satisfaction. “Goddamn,” he exhales, pulling away for only a second. “Who knew you’d sound so pretty when you whine?”
I arch into him. “You could’ve heard it weeks ago if you weren’t so stubborn.”
His hands slip under my shirt, palms engulfing my bare back as they run the length of it. He crosses his arms, holding me to him as tightly as possible with a kiss that feels far too intimate for a casual hook-up, but I forget all about that notion when his hands start exploring, running over my hips and curving over my stomach. He flicks my nipples with his thumbs, hard and sensitive for him.
“Do that again,” I beg breathlessly.
He does, rolling them before he pinches them between his fingers.
“You like that?” he asks, though he doesn’t need the confirmation. I think he just likes to hear me ask for it.
I quickly nod, my eyes pleading as our foreheads rest against each other, swirling breaths shared between us.
He smiles wickedly. “You like when I play with your tits, Mills?”
“Yes,” I hiss through another pinch that sends a throb straight to my clit.
“You think I could make you come just from this?”
Before tonight, that would’ve been a resounding no. I’m the kind of woman who needs a shit ton of warm-up before and if I ever come. We’re talking toys and a whole lot of direction when, most of the time, I finish myself later.
But if there’s anyone who could get me off from a little nipple play it’d be this man, who has a whole confident side I’m starting to see.
“I think you should try,” I suggest with a kiss.
He chuckles lightly before molding his mouth to mine again, our tongues tangling. I pull him closer, but every inch of our somewhat clothed bodies is already touching, and still, it’s not enough. I want us naked. I want him inside of me. I’d let him fuck me right here on this counter where I could replay it in my mind each and every time I baked in his kitchen.
He squeezes me in his palms, rolling my nipples between his fingers as our lower halves continue to writhe into each other. My ass is barely on the counter with how hard we’re dry-humping, my hips seeking his with every thrust.
Quickly, he removes one of his hands from my shirt, pulling off his fogged-over glasses and tossing them onto the counter, but instead of replacing his fingers on my sensitive nipple, he cups my hip, pads bruising my flesh with an almost painful but desperate grip as he moves our bodies together.
We both look down and watch ourselves grind against each other.
“Fuck, Mills.” His breaths are labored. “You feel incredible.”
I toss my head back when he pulls my nipple between two fingers. “Please don’t stop. Please. Please.”
I’m so wet, so close. I can feel my body pulsing, ready to come just from grinding on his dick.
His hand curves around, cupping my ass to keep me in place as he ruts into me, his cock brushing my clit with every roll.
“Yes,” I cry. “Yes, Ace. Right there.” The nickname slips off my tongue without thought, but I’m a panting mess right now, and can’t be held accountable for my actions.