The Collector | 18+

【51】Overdressed

We stumbled into the room together, too absorbed by our heated kiss to care about anything that wasn't us.

My hand was clasped against his neck, holding him down as my lips relentlessly sought his. In an instant, everything that had happened since the last time we'd kissed vanished, gone into thin air. It didn't matter if he'd rejected me and done his best to set as much distance between us as he could.

All that mattered was his hands pulling me against him, his warm, musky scent, and his mouth devouring mine as if his life depended on it. All the rest became insignificant. And while some part of me—very deep down—wondered if I shouldn't refuse this, I dismissed it. We were grown adults, and even though things had been tumultuous from the start, we could have sex and then move on, like so many others did all the time.

When his free hand reached for my behind, barely covered by my flimsy pajama shorts, sparks ignited inside me, in my chest, as much as between my legs. I was so lost in it that I didn't even think of looking around to discover what his room looked like. How could I be interested in that when his tongue was grazing mine so hungrily?

I unclenched the fabric of his shirt and slipped two fingers into the loose circle of his tie, pulling on it to remove it. That triggered his own need to see me undressed, and he gathered the hem of my sweater in his hands before pulling it up my torso. I shivered when his knuckles brushed against my naked skin underneath, before letting go of his tie to raise my arms instead. We broke our kiss, just long enough for him to pass my top above my head.

For some reason, I was expecting him to reclaim my lips as soon as he was free to do so, but instead, he took a step back and looked at my exposed chest, his heated eyes gliding from one perky tip to the other. The cool air of his room and the arousal raging through me had caused my nipples to harden, so much so that I could sense them, all tight and pebbled. Something about the glimmer of appreciation in the look he gave them had my pride swell, and I stared back at him with a crooked smirk.

"Like what you see?"

He ripped his eyes from my chest to glance up at me playfully. "I very much do. But you're overdressed, kjære."

The endearment had my heart melting for an instant, and I considered asking him to hold back on those. But when had he ever listened to me where pet names were concerned?

Instead, I slipped my thumbs into my shorts and pushed them down, along with my underwear. When I straightened up, entirely naked while he was still fully clothed, I realized my mistake. I was at a disadvantage now, and given the lustful gaze he covered me with, it had been a poor choice of strategy. At this rate, he'd jump me and fuck me before his suit was gone, which was a shame. I wanted to see all of him, to enjoy the sight of his tattoos, as well as the powerful muscles dancing underneath with his every movement.

Surprising me once more with how well he could read me, he sent his hands up to get rid of his askew tie, removing it with impatient gestures. His bluest of eyes kept traveling up and down my body, and I did my best not to hide myself.

I was rather confident about my shapes, and had been for most of my life. My father's slender genetics had mixed well with my mother's curvy silhouette, and I was graced with the best of both worlds: long limbs, slim waist, and an hourglass figure that I knew drove men mad. Adding to the superior gene pool, I ran and exercised regularly, practiced yoga for flexibility and muscle strengthening, and ate relatively well.

So, the shyness that gained me as Ulrik took me in was unfamiliar, probably only triggered by the intensity of his gaze. It was as though he could see beyond my skin, further than my nakedness. I'd never felt this exposed before, and I wasn't sure how to handle all the confusing emotions that threatened to wreck me.