Lost In Me (Here and Now) Read Online Free PDF

under my shirt. His touch is light and cautious of my bruises, but when his fingertips skim the underside of my breasts, he’s confident and sure—a wanderer returning to familiar territory. His thumbs find my nipples and my breath draws in with a hiss. I collapse forward, resting my head on his shoulder.
    “I’m here,” he whispers in my ear as his fingers work delicious magic under my shirt. “And I’m real.”
    I roll my hips against his erection, and I can’t deny it. He’s real. And he’s amazing.
    I slide my hand between our bodies and find his hard-on.
    “We shouldn’t do this,” he groans. His lips sample the side of my neck between his words. “Not until you’re better. Not until we’ve really had a chance to talk.”
    I know this isn’t the first time we’ve touched. It couldn’t possibly be. If I wanted to release him from his jeans and take him into my mouth, it surely wouldn’t be the first time for that either.
    In the war between my desires and my self-conscious nerves, my nerves are winning, and I won’t have that. If this is my new amazing life, I’m going to live it up.
    “I guess it’s stupid that I’m so nervous,” I whisper.
    “It isn’t. Not at all.”
    Anything else he planned to say is cut off by his groan as I unzip his jeans and release him from his boxers with one bold move of my hand.
    My breath catches at the sight of him, long and thick and hard. For me. I lick my lips, wrap my hand around his shaft, and stroke.
    “Jesus.” His eyes float closed and his hips buck instinctively, moving him hard against the grip of my hand.
    My nerves flitter away as he gets lost in my touch. He fights to keep his eyes open, his control intact. I may be a little on the inexperienced side, but I know how to give a damn good hand job. I had one asshole boyfriend my freshman year in college who demanded them regularly. Once, I regretted that relationship, but suddenly it feels worth it because I love the pleasure on Max’s face—the way he looks at me through his lashes, the way his nostrils flare as I use my thumb to test the moisture at the tip of his cock.
    “Hanna,” he chokes out, and I squeeze him a little harder. I can tell he’s close by the way he’s swelling. Harder. Thicker.
    I push off him and to my knees on the floor, never releasing him.
    He reaches for me, but I ignore his hands and lick the swollen head of his dick.
    “Oh, fuck.”
    I grin because he’s lost the battle with his self-control I never intended to let him win.
    I release him just long enough to slide my tongue up the underside of his shaft, and his body shudders. When I stretch my lips over him and take him deep, he groans, and I feel beautiful and powerful. My body winds tight with arousal.
    Max puts a gentle hand on my face. “You don’t have to—”
    I pull him deeper before he can say anything else. I don’t remember doing this before—blowjobs are definitely not in the limited realm of my remembered experience—but sixty seconds in, I can already tell what feels good to him and what makes him nearly lose control.
    I work my tongue over the underside of him and add more suction to my movement. His gentle hand moves to my head and slides into my hair. He leads me to take him half an inch deeper. Before I can even adjust to the new depth, he’s coming, filling my throat in a way I never would have imagined could be so sexy.
    Yet a smile curves my lips as I release him, as happy as I am turned on. And fuck am I turned on.
    He pulls me into his lap and gathers me against him.
    “That was amazing,” I murmur into his chest.
    His body shakes with his nearly silent chuckle. “I’m pretty sure that’s my line.”
    “I know you were trying not to go there tonight, but…” I sigh and grin up at him. “I couldn’t help myself.”
    He kisses me firmly, tongue sweeping into my mouth, teeth nipping my lips. Then his hand is under my shirt again, doing delicious things to my nipples, and I hope he