23. Marnie

Talking is nice and all, but talking isn’t going to distract me from the apocalypse raging outside.

I like rain. I like lightning. But I prefer big, ragey storms like this to stay far, far away.

I sigh with relief when Dusty pulls me onto his lap. My body instantly melts into his, recognizing the safety of his powerful frame on a very cellular level.

His nose trails along my cheekbone. I can hear him breathing in my skin as he skates over my temple. “I’ve been dying to touch you again all night. This outfit is driving me wild.”

His chest is warm and hard through his t-shirt. My thighs wrap around his hips. My hips wiggle subconsciously, trying to determine if that bulge under my butt is what I think it is.

I laugh shakily. “Big fan of sweats?”

His hands cup the curve of my ass, giving me an exploratory squeeze. “On you? Yes. Very much so.”

His hand drags up my side, bunching my tank top.

“And this.”

He sighs raggedly. “Baby girl, you know how to tease.”

“They’re just pajamas, Dusty.”

He growls against my neck. “Fuck-me pajamas.”

“These aren’t my fuck-me pajamas.”

He tenses under me, hand roughly sailing over my breast before cupping my jaw. “You keep running that mouth. I thought you wanted me to kiss you.”

“I do, but you keep stalling.”

His mouth crashes over mine before I can finish the sentence. It’s a long kiss, deep and overpowering. His tongue dominates mine, scooping against mine, devouring it.

His hands grip my ass cheeks, tugging me closer. I slip forward, rubbing against the growing bulge beneath his zipper.

I’m not really sure what the rules are. We threw them out when we locked eyes for the first time. I usually find my dates through an app. They all follow a predictable pattern, followed by predictable, mediocre sex. Like scratching an itch.

But this.

This is like striking a match.

I feel need coiling in my belly, winding tighter and tighter. A quiet voice in the back of my mind whispers that he’s way too young for me. I shouldn’t mix business and pleasure.

But fuck that, because there hasn’t been anything pleasurable about my life for a long damn time and I’m due for a little self-care.

And this man, this beautiful, skilled man, is the maestro of pleasure.

He breaks the kiss, sucking my lower lip into his mouth before letting it go. He drags his hands up my spine, circling around to cup my breasts. “You’ve been on my mind all day. I’ve been rock hard thinking about that tight little body of yours.”

I roll my hips over his lap, tangling my fingers in his soft hair. Staring down at his face, I’m charmed by the slightly wild look in his eyes. Like he’s coming undone.

Like I’m doing that to him.

I rise up and grind against him, eliciting a tortured groan that rumbles through his chest against my belly. Lifting up again, my breasts are right at mouth level.

He takes the bait, leaning forward to kiss my pointed peaks through my tank top. His lips circle around my nipples and his teeth scrape over the thin fabric. “No bra?”

“Not at night.”

The storm rages outside, not showing any sign of stopping, but it’s just background noise at this point. My only focus is on that hot mouth as it nips and sucks on my breasts through my shirt.

I reach for the hem of my tank and whip it overhead. He growls in approval, fitting his mouth over my nipple. He sucks hard, dragging his lips over to the other side and giving it equal treatment.

Between his lips on my breasts, and the way my body is dragging across his erection, I find myself spiraling closer and closer to the top. “Babe.”

I sigh brokenly.

He looks up, instantly knowing I’m close. He eases me off his lap. Guiding me to stand between his legs. “Take off your pants.”

I sidle out of my sweats, watching him unzip his jeans. He lifts his hips, dragging them down his thighs. “Panties, too.”

Feeling suddenly shy, with all that perfect muscle coiled below me, my hands start to cover up my body.

He leans forward so that I can just barely feel the soft brush of his breath. “Off.”

The command in his voice sends a shiver of pleasure radiating down my spine. Feeling antsy from a combustive mix of vulnerability and pure desire, I obey, letting my panties drop around my ankles.

He exhales, the warm gust whispering down my belly, between my legs. “Good girl.”

Letting his fingers trail along my thighs, he runs his hands up to my hips and, oh so gently, lifts me up and lays me down on the couch.