More Than Want You

I can’t stay away from her for another second, so I plunge into her mouth. Tonight, she’s mine, and I want her to feel it. I’m thrilled when she melts against me with a moan.

Though I’m drowning in her taste, I somehow manage to stumble through the maze of the kitchen and foyer. I’m thankful I keep my living room uncluttered. When I hit the threshold to my room, I have a clear path to the bed.

With one hand, I tear the duvet down. Pillows topple and scatter. Pristine white sheets beckon. I lay Keeley in the center of the bed.

She looks perfect because she belongs here. I’ve fantasized about having her in my bed so many times, rolling to me in the night for pleasure, cuddled up to me in the morning for warmth. But she’s looking at me now as if she wants all that and more. She wants the things I’ve never been willing to give anyone—my heart, my soul, my promises of tomorrow.

A week ago, I doubted I’d ever be capable of giving anyone all that. Now I’m seriously considering whether I could share every moment with her and—maybe for the first time ever—be happy.

I brace above her, drinking in her beauty. I have no idea how she saw past my inner asshole and decided she likes me, anyway. The only explanation is that I got lucky.

Her fingers climbing up my arms and curling around my shoulders distract me from thinking. When she winds her hands around my neck and tugs me down, I don’t fight the urge to plaster myself over her bare body and sink into her mouth again. As my naked chest settles against hers, I groan.

In the past, women have felt good. Women have felt dirty. Women have never simply felt right.

Keeley does.

I lose myself in her. She’s sweet and soft and open beneath me. Her thighs part, and I slide between them, deeply resenting my pajama bottoms. I could shove them aside, reach into my nightstand for a condom, and be inside her in less than sixty seconds if I want. Which I do…but I don’t.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve had time to think about all the ways I wish I’d touched and taken Keeley that first night. I’m not letting this opportunity pass me by. Yes, I want what I want when I want it—and I’m determined to get it this time. But I also want her to be dizzy and dazzled. I want to give her everything she could ever yearn for in a lover. That means I can’t go about this like an impatient shithead again.

I tangle my tongue with hers, losing myself in the sway of our rhythm. Then I ease back, press a kiss to her mouth, brushing my lips over hers before I lean away. She groans and tries to pull me down again.

“One second, sunshine. Trust me. I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s too dark, so I flip on the light. I want to see her. Once I do, I blow out an amazed breath at the soft glow beaming across her bare skin. Then I reach into the nightstand with one hand while shucking my pants with the other.

Keeley smiles at me and crooks her finger my way with a come-hither glance.

She won’t get an argument from me.

I knee my way between her legs again. She welcomes me without hesitation, and I set the foil packet aside. It’s within reach when I’m ready…but that won’t be for a while.

Because for the first time in my sexual life, the goal of tonight isn’t pleasure, it’s connection.

Shit. Do I even know how to do that? I’m good at sex, but I don’t know the first fucking thing about joining more than bodies.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers.

I can’t tell her that I’m lost. I’ll sound stupid and dickless. Inept.

“Sunshine, tell me how to give you what you want. I want to do this right for you.”

Her face softens. Then she curls her fingers around my hand and brings it to her breast. She caresses my chest in return. “Just touch me. Be with me. Let it flow from here.”

Keeley makes it sound so simple, like all I have to do is close my eyes and breathe.

Does it have to be more complicated than that?

I’m certainly willing to give it a try. The alternative is to hang around with my dick in my hand, staring at her like I’m stupid. Um…no. Not happening.

Instead, I cradle her flesh, thumb her nipple, and bend to take her rosy lips under mine. They’re already slightly swollen and so fucking soft. She meets me halfway, eyes half-dazed, arms winding around me. As we join mouths, I delve deep. We share breaths. She arches into my palm. Her legs wrap around me. I feel her heat, sense the excitement skidding through her.

“Maxon…” she moans.

I press my forehead to hers to catch my breath. Normally, after a few kisses, I’d be impatient to get on with it. Not now. Not with Keeley. “I don’t want to rush this, sunshine. I didn’t savor you last time and I’ve regretted it like hell.”

She nips at my lobe with a dainty bite, then whispers in my ear. “I don’t regret anything. In fact, I think it happened for a reason. It brought us here.”

Good point. Damn, this woman is smart.

I need to keep up, make sure that, after all the waiting for tonight, it’s worthwhile, give her something she’ll never forget.

After a passionate crush of my lips on hers, I kiss a path to her chin, over her collarbones, down her sternum. Her breasts beckon. No, they’re not just tits. Keeley’s are special, at least to me. I nuzzle the side of one, dragging my tongue up the so-soft skin while my thumb teases the hard tip. The little sounds in the back of her throat urge me on. Her body has a language all its own. The way she’s flushing and arching speaks volumes.

I wrap my lips around her nipple, suckling, laving. Even her skin is slightly downy and sweet. I bring her closer, move in for seconds, lose myself in everything that makes her special.

She glides one hand over my short hair and tries to pull me in tighter. She pants. She sighs. She writhes.

I move to the other breast. I don’t even want to open my eyes and deal with any reality except Keeley right now. So I suck harder on her nipple while I press my fingers around the other, giving it a squeeze. Satisfaction jolts me when she cries out my name.

Risking a glance up her pale body, I watch in fascination as she tosses her head back, throat arched, lips parted. God, she’s so beautiful. So…what’s the word? Unabashed.

Keeley isn’t afraid of anything, least of all what she feels.

My father would call me a loser and a pussy for even imagining she matters as anything but a fuckhole, but he can eat shit. This woman excites me. Inspires me.