Coming Home(85)

Her breathing quickly grew labored as he lavished her throat with attention, kissing up the column of her neck and over her chin until their mouths met again. She slid her hands up into his hair and curled them into fists. He rewarded her with a throaty moan against her mouth, and then his hands were clutching the backs of her thighs as he spun abruptly and began stumbling through his apartment.

She continued to kiss him, panting and sighing into his mouth as his fingertips dug into the flesh of her thighs. Her shoulder hit something and it crashed to the floor, but he kept his pace, staggering blindly through the living room until finally they turned into his bedroom.

Leah assumed he was taking them to the bed until her back hit the wall with a thud, and all at once she could feel how hard he was—the incredible, firm pressure between her legs.

She ripped her mouth from his and gasped, and he groaned deep in his throat.

“We have to stop,” he said, kissing down the side of her neck and over her collarbone, interspersing his kisses with little nips that lit her skin on fire and set off a steady throbbing low in her belly. Her hips moved of their own volition, rolling against his, seeking friction.

“Leah, we have to stop,” he panted, but he pressed his hips back into hers, eliciting a low moan from her lips.

“Oh God,” she breathed, tightening her legs around his hips before bringing her mouth back to his.

He kissed her hard, gripping her waist before lifting her slightly, and Leah unwrapped her legs from his body before sliding down the wall. Danny kept his hands firmly on her sides as she slipped down the front of his body, causing her shirt to lift slightly. He seemed to hesitate for just a second before she felt his fingers curl under the hem, and in one swift movement, he pulled it up and over her head.

“Goddamn it,” he said hoarsely as he brought his hands back to her body, cupping her breasts as he leaned down and kissed along the lacy edge of her bra, and Leah slipped her hands up under his shirt, lightly raking her nails down his stomach. He hissed in pleasure before claiming her mouth again, his kisses shifting from passionate to desperate.

Leah reached forward, hooking her fingers in the front of his jeans and giving him a firm tug, bringing his hips flush with hers again. She could feel how badly he wanted her, and the knowledge alone made her entire body ache.

“We can’t,” he murmured against her mouth, placing his hand on her bare stomach and pushing her back slightly, and Leah gripped his wrist and slid his hand down the flat plane of her abdomen until his fingertips dipped under the waist of her jeans.

“Shit,” he breathed, and she felt the muscles in his forearm flex in protest for just a moment before he plunged his hand down, sliding beneath her panties. He touched her gently, and that single cautious stroke sent bolts of electricity rocketing up through her body. She sucked in a sharp breath as she threw her head back, slamming it against the wall. Under any other circumstance, she knew it would have hurt, but the only thing she could feel was the pressure of his touch right where she needed it, slowly working her into a frenzy.

She moaned softly, writhing against his hand, and he dropped his head to her shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” he rasped out. “Leah, please.”

He began to remove his hand from her pants, and she grabbed the sides of his face, pulling his mouth back to hers and kissing him with every ounce of want he had awakened and revived and kindled inside of her. Never before had she been so aware of the thin line between pleasure and pain. Every touch, every kiss, felt so incredibly good, and yet her desire for him was agonizing.

“Danny,” she breathed against his mouth. “We don’t have to stop. I want you.”