I kicked the door shut behind us and carried her the rest of the way to the bed, her legs still wrapped tight around my waist. The moment her back hit the mattress I followed her down, mouths fused again in a kiss that had lost every last trace of patience.
Her blouse hung completely open now, the fabric framing the lace of her bra like an offering. The skirt was bunched uselessly around her hips, one stocking-clad thigh hooked over my leg. My own shirt was half-unbuttoned and rumpled, pants still on but straining.
We kissed like we were trying to memorize each other, slow and deep, then hungry again, tongues sliding, teeth nipping. Her hands roamed under my shirt, nails dragging lightly down my back, and every touch sent electricity straight down my spine.
She was so hot!
I could feel the heat of her through the thin lace between us, the way her hips kept rolling up in tiny, restless movements.
