His fingers opened her fleece vest and slid it from her shoulders. “How many damn layers?” he murmured as Cat shoved her hands into his hair.

Cat kissed him hard. “Three more.”

She shucked the thermal shirt off over her head, leaving him to stroke over the silky fabric of her tank top. “Two more,” she whispered.

Noah slid his hands under the hem and skimmed upward, drawing the tank with him.

“Last one,” she promised. He yanked at her bra, a simple sports design, and unceremoniously discarded it.

He paused for a breath, admiring the view of her bare breasts just inches from his face. Cat felt his erection lengthen beneath her. Then his hands, those rough and ready palms were on her, drawing out the winter’s cold and replacing it with a heat warm enough to scorch her. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste the tip of the breast closest to him.

Cat dropped her head back, her hair tickling her back, and sighed. Noah closed his mouth over the pink bud. The windows inches behind the couch fogged as Cat’s breath grew ragged. She rolled her hips against him, grinding against the cock that was straining against his sweatpants. He took a handful of both breasts and worshipped them one at a time with his busy mouth.

With some minor gymnastics, Cat managed to force his pants down a few inches. Just enough to free his hard-on. It jutted proudly, arching away from the flat lines of Noah’s stomach. Cat didn’t bother taking a moment to admire it. She pounced, gripping him firmly at the root. Noah groaned against her breast, the vibrations surrounding her aching nipple and tingling her to her core.

“I love when you touch me.” His voice was a gravel road on a Sunday drive.

Cat pumped up his shaft, brushing her thumb across the tip. She felt powerful as Noah collapsed back against the couch, his hands seeking purchase on the curves of her hips.

“I can see that,” she teased, stroking up the column of hot, smooth flesh.

His eyes were clamped shut, his jaw tight as if the pleasure she doled out was more torture than rapture. She loved watching him react to her. Increasing her pace, Cat gripped him tighter and lifted onto her knees.

“Hold this,” she ordered, pulling her simple gray briefs to one side. Noah’s finger snaked in and hooked the material. Wickedly, he brushed his thumb over the lips of her sex, and Cat’s breath caught in her throat.

She was the one in charge. She was the captain of this ship. Brushing aside his exploring digit, Cat brought the crown of his cock to the gap in her folds. She pleasured them both that way, hard, tight strokes that brushed her bud of nerves that was already begging for more.