He lifted his arm, putting it around my shoulders. His lips found the top of my head before he spoke, “Hey, I didn't want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful. I hope you like pancakes.”
I closed my eyes as I moved my chin so I could kiss the tattoo on the top of his shoulder. A shudder passed through his body as I moved my lips over his skin, answering without lifting them, “I love them.”
I looked up at him through my bangs, and his nostrils flared as he fought to keep his eyes open. “That's not really fair,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Why?” I whispered, my lips skimming over his tattoo up to his neck.
I felt his muscles tense beneath my mouth as the stove clicked off and the sound of the pan scuffing across the glass surface filled the room. A tingle passed up my spine as he turned, pushing me up against the wall behind us. His lips crushed into mine, and my hands slipped up his back digging into the muscles over his shoulder blades. I gasped as his lips left mine, drifting down my chin to my neck. I was losing control. Fast.
How many weeks...My eyes fluttered against my cheeks as his hands slipped up my shirt.
Weeks, El. How many weeks?
Four? The shirt slipped over my head.
No, it was more than that.
His lips skimmed over my collarbone, my eyes found the ceiling as my hands buried in the back of his hair.
Six or seven?
His hands drifted up, pushing my bra strap down.
His lips found mine again as his hands slid down my back and over my ass, bringing my legs up and around his waist. He carried me, one hand firmly wrapped across my back as the other felt along the edge of the wall until we got to the bedroom, where he placed me softly on the bed. I pulled his body over mine before he could lift away. Our bare skin pressed together, and my eyes rolled in the back of my head as warmth spread through my limps. His body trembled again as my back arched against his hands running up my spine to my bra clasp. He paused, his forehead against mine as both our chests heaved, his hands hovering over either of my shoulders. I leaned forward, and the bra fell down to my waist. His eyes raced over mine, and they seemed to ask if I was ready for this.
I closed my eyes, pressing our mouths together as I pulled him back to me. Our bare chests touched, and my mouth opened in a moan against his warmth. His lips moved down, and his hands slipped up my arms into my own, our fingers weaving together. My body arched again, and I loosened our hands, slipping them down his back to his pants. His eyes locked on mine again, his arms straining as he held his body inches above mine. I leaned up running my lips over the tattoo that started this intense heat.
“El,” he whispered my name, a breathless gasp, and I slipped his pants down, my lip dragging up his neck to his chin.
I swallowed as his mouth found my own neck, his arm slipping under my waist and pulling me to the top of him before he pushed the baggy pajama pants down my body. His mouth traveled down my body as he did. He rolled over me again, pulling my arms over my head as our hands slipped into one another.
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