Instead, I just enjoy the little mewling noises she makes when I brush my thumbs over her nipples. When I pinch them, I push my tongue into her mouth and enjoy the way her hips rock in my direction, like she just can’t get enough.

It’s empowering. It’s like a fucking drug seeing how badly she wants me. And I break the kiss only because I’m not done playing with the rest of her body.

I know I’ll have lots of time to kiss her because I don’t plan to stop so long as she’s willing to let me have her.

“These fucking tits have featured in my dreams for weeks,” I say, sliding my mouth down her throat, pressing kisses to the little indent at the base of it and working my way along her collarbone. A lick to her slender shoulder sends a shiver through her entire body, and I smile to myself because her reactions are just so damn satisfying.

“Thank you.” Her head tips back, which makes her breasts press out in my direction like some sort of special offering.

It feels like everything is dialed up a zillion notches. Every reaction is stronger somehow. Every feeling magnified. I can’t explain it and maybe I don’t need to. Maybe the lesson here is that I just need to relax and let myself enjoy something for once.

Because I fully intend to enjoy Willa Grant.

My mouth latches onto one nipple, and she cries out instantly. “Ah! Don’t stop doing that, Cade.”

I suck harder and her body writhes. My opposite hand thumbs at the other nipple in a steady rhythm, the metal piercing adding a weight to it. My cock surges painfully against my jeans, and she’s not even totally naked yet.

“I’m a fucking goner for you, Red. Watching you squirm? Listening to you moan my name? What am I supposed to do now?” I trail my tongue across her sternum before latching onto the opposite breast, strumming at her wet nipple.

“Fuck me. You’re supposed to fuck me.” Her words are breathless, edged in desperation, and I love the sound, the vibration in her chest that I can feel against my lips.

I drop my hand and press it against the apex of her thighs. Even through her jeans, I feel the heat. I know when I peel all these layers back, she’s going to be fucking soaked.

For me.

“Is that so?” I lean back a little and press my thumb hard against the denim. “Right here, Red?”

“Yes.” She throws her head back, her tits glistening with my saliva, fingers fisted in the sheets.

I rub firm circles on her jeans, chuckling darkly at the way her hips gyrate against the pressure.

“Cade,” her lips part on my name, her tongue darting out to wet them. “God.”