Page 6 of Protected By the BRATVA Grump

Too long of not doing this arrives all at once, and there's nothing careful left in it. She kisses like she talks, warm and unguarded and completely without strategy. When I break away to get at her throat, she says my name, her fingers pushing up into my hair and holding on.

"I’ve wanted this," she says, "for so long, and I have been such an idiot about it."

"Not just you," I manage between the moments that my lips are pressed against her skin.

"How long?" she asks. "How long, Jasper?"

I lift her onto the counter so her face is level with mine, her legs wind around me. I take my time answering because I want to watch what it does to her.

"Since the wedding," I confess.

The sound she makes goes straight through me.

"That’s the first time we ever met…" she trails off as I run my tongue over her throat, her head tipping back.

I push her zippered sweater off her shoulders as she pulls at my T-shirt. Then she's kissing me again.

There's a whole plan somewhere at the back of my head about doing this properly, slowly, with the seriousness it deserves, and it survives about as long as it takes her to get my belt open.

Delilah

He has me stripped naked in my kitchen within seconds. The sports bra and leggings get thrown haphazardly onto the chair behind him, then my panties are slowly lowered over my hips and down my legs, but they don’t make it to the chair. They get as far as his jeans pocket. Then he lifts me onto the counter and steps back.

"Fuck." It comes out as a gruff breath with a desperate edge as his eyes rove over my body.

My nipples are pebbled, begging for attention. There’s a new weight to my breasts that matches the one in my lower belly along with the thrum of need that’s turned my blood electric.

The kitchen light is too bright, unforgiving, and for a second I want to fold my arms across myself, but the look on his face stops me. He looks wrecked already, jaw tight, pupils blown wide, and I realize with a jolt that this is the first time he’s truly seeing me.

"Touch yourself," he says. His voice is low, rough, nothing like the careful neutrality he uses at the café counter.

I blink. "What?"

"You heard me." He hasn’t moved. He’s still dressed in his jeans, the belt hanging open, while I’m naked on my own kitchen counter with my underwear in his pocket. The imbalance should feel ridiculous, but it doesn’t. "I want to watch you."

My face heats, but the embarrassment curdles instantly into something sharper when I see the hunger in his expression.

I let my hand slide down my stomach. My own touch feels different under his gaze, more acute, every nerve ending awake and reaching. I watch his face as my fingers find where I’m already wet, his breath catches audibly.

"Like that," he murmurs. He shifts his weight, and I can see how hard he is, straining against his jeans. "Don’t rush it, Delilah."

I lift both legs until my heels come to rest on the edge of the counter and part my lips to run my first and middle fingers down either side of my clit and entrance. I stretch myself apart a little, opening myself while I watch his eyes go molten at what he sees.

The sound he makes, a quiet rumble of restraint, goes straight through me.

I give myself another long, slow stroke before lightly pinching my clit between my fingers, testing which pressure feels best.

When a bolt of pleasure jolts through me and a gasp escapes my mouth, I know I’ve found it.

"Fuck Delilah, you’re so much sexier than I ever imagined. All spread out for me like a feast. I can’t wait to make you come on my face."

His words hit me just right, ramping the pleasure up a notch as I circle myself with tentative strokes, then firmer as he unzips his jeans.

The kitchen is silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and our breathing. I’ve done this alone a hundred times, but never like this. Never in my kitchen with someone watching as if the sight of it is the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

"You’re beautiful," he says, and the words are almost reverent. "The way your breath catches. The flush spreading over yourthroat..." He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him, though he still doesn’t touch me. "I can see exactly where you need it. Right there. Right where you’re quivering."

A sharp spasm of pleasure shoots up my spine, making my tits jump and catching his attention.