Sweet Addiction

“Fuck. Let me in and I will be touching you.”

Closing my eyes, I move my fingers in quick circles. I think of the first time he touched me at the wedding, the way his hands slid up my thighs. The way he gripped my hips and pulled me against him, meeting his thrusts with such force that I thought he would break me. His eyes, his lips, the way he filled me completely on Tuesday and the feel of his skin against my skin. How he kept his eyes on me when he was devouring me between my legs. I’m moaning loudly, working myself up and then I feel it. The pull. The heat. Slow and steady pouring over me and flushing my entire body. I pulse against my hand, coming long and hard all by myself.

“Reese.” Bucking against the chair, I hold my fingers still but apply enough pressure to give me what I need. My eyes are closed and my head is thrown back, but through my moans I hear several bouts of pounding on the glass going on and know that he’s dying out there. I don’t know why, he’ll definitely be getting his in a minute.

Lifting my head slowly, I push myself out of the chair and calmly button my jeans before I move to stand directly in front of the door. I smile slyly at his appearance. I feel amazing and he looks completely frazzled, hair sticking out all over the place, eyes wide, jaw tightly clenched. I bite my cheek and giggle.

“You’re going to kill me. You know this right?” he says as I slowly slip my fingers into my mouth and suck on them. He runs his hand through his hair while the other one grips the door handle. “Dylan, if you don’t let me in right now I’ll be replacing your door tomorrow.”

I snicker and pull my fingers out of my mouth, quickly reaching up and unlocking the door as he barges through and pulls me against him. Picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist, he turns and locks the door behind us with his free hand before he brings his mouth to mine, his other hand holding me up.

“So f**king sexy, love. But don’t do that again,” he says between kisses and I pull back, seeing his serious expression.

“You didn’t like my show? It was just for you.” He carries me over to the counter and sits me down on top of it, settling his body between my thighs. His hands run up my arms, brushing lightly over my shoulders and up my neck as he slowly traces my throat with his fingers.

“I loved your show. But I don’t like not being able to get to you. I was dying out there.” I smile and press my forehead against his as he trails his fingertips down my neck and over the top of my br**sts. “You look beautiful by the way,” he says softly before pressing his lips firmly against mine. I open for him, allowing his tongue to softly dip into my mouth. His kisses aren’t urgent this time. They’re slow and lasting as if he’s savoring this moment with me. Swallowing my moans, his breath comes out in hot spurts and fills me with my favorite minty flavor. I press my chest against his as his hands wrap around my waist and slowly stroke my back, my hands clamped behind his neck. We both break away at the same time, our foreheads reclaiming their spot against each other’s and our uneven breathing surrounding us.

“Missed your face,” I say, regretting it instantly because he didn’t need to know that. Crap. I have an orgasm and drop my guard like an amateur.

“Just my face?” he asks playfully. He brushes my hair behind my ear and runs his fingers through the waves.

I shake my head and begin slowly scratching the back of his neck. His eyes close and a tiny sound of pleasure escapes him, making me smile. “I missed your face too,” he replies as he reopens his eyes and traces down the sides of my temples, across my cheekbones, and down to my lips where I kiss the tips of his fingers.

His words warm me the way they shouldn’t and I know I need to break this moment before I say something I really don’t want him to know. I wasn’t only weak when it came to sex around this man. He is slowly infiltrating every cut of my soul. “Want a tour?” His lips pull up in the corner and he steps back, holding out his hand to help me off the counter. I quickly drop my hand out of his before I become too familiar with the sensation and walk through the doorway that leads to the kitchen. Flipping on the lights, I walk around the large workbench, feeling him watch me from where he stands.

“Okay, so this is where I spend my time whipping up my fabulous creations and trying desperately not to eat them, which I usually fail at miserably.” I motion around the room and hear a soft laugh from his direction. “Storage, fridge, freezer, and oh shit.” I spot a bat of icing that I had made earlier this morning when I was testing out a new recipe. Grabbing the bowl that I had placed on the shelf, I stick my pinky finger into the hot pink frosting and slip it into my mouth.

“Mmm, yummy,” I say as I flick my eyes up to Reese who is perched against the wall. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s watching me with concentrated interest, which I’m beginning to notice is a pattern of his. “Oh, I found this recipe for chocolate peppermint frosting and had some extra time this morning to play around with it. Until I realized that I didn’t have extra time and I stupidly left it out.” I lick my lips and his eyes widen. “Wanna taste?”

“Sure,” he answers, moving towards the work station. I hop up on top of it and wait patiently for him to stand in front of me, as his hands rest lightly on my thighs.

I dip my finger into the frosting. “Open,” I command, holding my finger in front of his now slightly swollen lips. They curl up into a small smile before he opens his mouth, his tongue wrapping around my finger and pulling every last bit off. Jesus, he could probably get me ready for sex just by licking an envelope in front of me.