Suddenly, everything felt right and warm. Aaron pulled her purse off her shoulder and eased them backward toward the couch. The second the backs of his knees hit the edge, he lowered them down, holding her legs apart so she straddled his lap. Angling his head the other way, he pushed his tongue farther into her mouth, drawing a small gasp of happiness from her.
In an instant, he disconnected with a soft smack. “Are you okay?” he murmured in that deep velvet voice of his.
She smiled and nipped him. Easing back, she admitted in a shaky voice, “I’m better than okay. That was amazing.”
Aaron donned a proud rooster grin. Cocky man. She hated that on anyone else, but on Aaron, there was something so sexy about it. He should be confident. He was the most stunning man she’d ever seen in her life. Feeling daring, she slipped her fingertips under the hem of his navy fire shirt and brushed his skin right over his hip.
Aaron closed his eyes for a moment and blew out a soft moan. God, she loved his reaction to her touch. Leaning forward, Aaron tugged his shirt off in one smooth motion, then pulled her hands toward him until her palms rested on his chest.
“Your skin is so warm,” she mused.
“I run hot.”
“I’m running hot right now, too,” she said with a wicked smirk.
His smile lines deepened with that naughty grin of his. “I knew you were a bad girl.”
“You stop it.” She settled farther up his lap, directly over his erection, and ran her hands down his hard pecs to the rippling mounds of his abs. His muscles twitched under her hand. There was a slight trail of blond hair that led in a delicious tease from his belly button into his pants and, about now, her panties were definitely soaking. She’d never been so attracted to a man before, and Aaron was a man. A big, brawny, snarly, half-feral bear shifter who settled when she touched him.
Aaron brushed one of her curls off her shoulder and cupped her neck, then eased her closer. This kiss wasn’t the gentle one that his first had been. This was lips colliding urgently. It was leaning back against the couch and pulling her with him until her soft breasts were flush against his hard chest. Her body took over, or perhaps it was her instinct to be closer to him. Alana rocked her hips slowly onto his, and he groaned a sexy sound deep in his throat. She could feel the thick roll of his shaft underneath her, but it wasn’t nearly close enough. She’d never wanted a man like this. Had never felt such an acute desperation to be locked up in intimacy. It was as if she couldn’t draw an easy breath until she touched his skin.
His hands were everywhere—her back, her upper thighs, her waist—exploring, squeezing, rubbing. Aaron was setting her body on fire, touch by touch, as though he knew just how to bring her closer to the edge.
She was rocking against him rhythmically now, the friction of their hips feeling so good. Almost too late, she froze.
Aaron’s response was instant. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m close…”
He grazed his teeth on her bottom lip and whispered, “Come on me.” And then he pulled her hard against his body and rolled his hips against her smoothly and, dear goodness, this was happening. He was going to give her an orgasm with her pants on!
His rocking motion came harder and faster, and she buried her face against his neck, biting down on his skin as a snarl rippled out of him. So sexy, so perfect. Nothing had ever felt like this. Aaron gripped the back of her head, and she released his skin and whispered his name as her climax exploded through her body. Deep, throbbing ecstasy pounded in her middle as she bucked against him and clawed at his shoulders. And before her aftershocks were through, Aaron had settled her on her back and lowered himself between the cradle of her hips. As he kissed her, he stroked against her until she was sated. The snap of his button and the rip of his zipper was loud in the quiet of the room. Without a word, Aaron eased upward, his arm locked beside her head, and he unsheathed his long, thick erection.
“I’m close, too,” he whispered as he pulled the first stroke, and damn, Alana couldn’t pull her gaze away from the swollen head of his cock. She’d never watched a man do this to himself before, but her body was revving up again.
His abs flexed with every stroke, his arms were hard, his tattoos stark, and Alana wanted nothing more than to feel his warm seed spill onto her skin.
Desperately, she unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it open.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Aaron rasped out, his eyes blazing so bright. “Ah,” he grunted, his eyes on her breasts. He shot creamy warmth onto her stomach, reared back, and pushed into his hand again. Over and over, he pumped until he was empty. His stomach muscles twitched as he locked his arms on either side of her face and lowered his forehead to hers. He sighed and sipped at her lips, and when she rolled her hips toward him, he smiled against her mouth. Without her having to ask, he unsnapped her jeans and slid his palm into her panties.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured. Was that pride in his voice? Cocky.
“Aaron, please,” she begged, rocking her hips against his palm when he pushed his fingers down her wet folds. He brushed her sensitive nub, and now she was panting for more.
Aaron pushed two fingers into her slowly, and Alana was gone. She let off a needy sound and arched her back against the couch, desperate to be closer to him. Desperate for release under his clever touch. He filled her again and again, faster and smoother until she cupped her hand over his and clutched onto his arm with her other. “Aaron, Aaron,” she chanted mindlessly as he drove her closer to climax. So much pressure. So much pleasure with every stroke, and how could anything feel this good?