Out of Time

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He closed his arms around me and carried me to his bed. He was so hard and solid and it drove me insane every time he moved his tongue over mine like that. His teeth scraped my lower lip, and I whimpered into his mouth. His fingers moved over my butt, slipping between my legs and rubbing against the spot where I needed him most.

As he lowered me to the mattress, he started to climb on top of me, but I broke the kiss and shoved at his shoulders. “No,” I said, locking gazes with him. “It’s my turn. Just stand there.”

He stilled, instantly giving me what I wanted. “Your turn for what?”

“Control,” I said, my cheeks heating. “I want to undress you.”

He fisted his hands at his hips, watching me from beneath his lowered lids. When he looked at me like that—like I was his dessert or something—it made everything inside of me quiver and beg for his touch so much it hurt. I licked my lips and crawled to the edge of the bed on all fours. He twitched and took a step toward me; as if he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, but then he stopped.

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