Dillon is an amazing kisser, and I could do this all day.
“Wait.” He rips his lips from mine a few minutes later, and I instantly miss his mouth. He scoops some ice cream onto his spoon and shovels it between his lips, winking.
Catching on, I grin as I lean down and kiss him. He slides some of the ice cream into my mouth, and I moan against his lips, grinding my hips against his when I feel his erection nudging me.
We finish the rest of our ice cream like this, and by the time we’re done, I’m hotter than lava, and my body is aching to be filled by him. Dillon clearly feels similar things as he flips me over on my back, so I’m underneath him, and then he proceeds to kiss the shit out of me. Closing my eyes, I lose myself in his kisses, reveling in the blissful sensations flowing through my body. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on just from kissing.
My back arches off the couch when he presses his long hard body down on top of me, careful not to crush me with his weight. My legs automatically wrap around his waist, and I thrust up against him, groaning at the hardness pushing against my soft center. We grind against one another as our kisses grow more demanding, and I’m seconds away from ripping my clothes off and jumping on his cock when he pulls back. “Fuck, Viv.” Rocking back on his heels, he claws his hands through his hair as his chest heaves.
My pajama top is stuck to my back, and my panties are soaked, dripping with desire for this man. I have never wanted anyone as much as I want him in this moment, but I’m glad he stopped it. I don’t want to move too fast. This morning proves my emotions are still out of whack, and I need to put the brakes on. I don’t want to sleep with him and subsequently fall apart. That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
Dillon extends his hand, pulling me up into his arms. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my ear soothes me, and I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “You make it so hard to resist you, but I’m determined to do this the right way,” he whispers in my ear.
“At least one of us has self-control.” My words are muffled against his chest.
“God fucking help us if we’re relying on mine.” Sarcasm is thick in his tone, and I giggle. “Come on.” He repositions us on the couch until we’re comfortable. He’s sitting, and I’m lying down on my side with my head on a cushion on his lap. “Let’s just watch this bloody movie. I might as well get it over and done with.”