Lara let out a surprised yelp as Zavien’s hand was suddenly pulled away. Her startled cry was quickly silenced as his mouth replaced his thumb, pressing against hers in a passionate kiss.
“Do you like the pasta?” she managed to ask between kisses and gasps for air.
His answer was a low growl and a playful nip at her lower lip. That was all the confirmation she needed.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. She had missed this closeness, but she hadn’t realized just how much until this moment.
Zavien was all she could sense; his scent, the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his tongue, and the spark in his eyes whenever they broke their kiss long enough for her to look at him.
“Aren’t you hungry?” she murmured into his chest, not sure why she was still talking. As much as she was pleased with how her cooking had turned out, this was far more enjoyable.
“Starving,” he replied, his voice muffled against her skin.
He then cupped her ass and lifted her up against him, causing her to yelp in surprise. By the time he set her down on a clean countertop, her pants had fallen to her ankles, leaving her in her polka-dot underwear, tank top, and apron.
He looked at her, his gaze traveling from the gray pants around her ankles to the red apron hanging from her neck.
She used this moment to kick off her pants. Seeing this, Zavien quickly removed the rest of her clothes, discarding the apron and lifting her shirt over her head.
He was just about to slide one hand into her underwear and the other over her breast when a loud noise made them jump apart.
In the midst of their passion, Lara had accidentally knocked her pot off the stove. She watched in horror as the green shells of her hard work splattered across the kitchen floor.
“My pesto!” she exclaimed, dismayed.
Zavien looked from the mess on the floor to her disappointed face, then sighed. He leaned in to give her a slow, lingering kiss, the kind that made her swing her feet back and forth on the countertop.
He broke the kiss with a gentle smile. “It was salty anyway,” he said, before capturing her lips again.
She gasped against him, half offended and half aroused. “You’re so annoying,” she muttered, even as she tugged at his shirt until it was off.
“Am I?” he asked, a teasing smile on his face.
The sight of it made her tighten her legs together, trying to alleviate the growing heat between them. He then buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing his smirk against her skin.
“Arrogant assho—oh,” she moaned softly as his teeth grazed her neck and his fingers slipped into her underwear.
Her insults were replaced by soft sighs and moans. She could feel Zavien’s grin against her skin, but she was too caught up in the sensation of his finger circling her clit to care.
“I didn’t catch that,” he said, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses from her neck to her jaw.
She decided she would deal with his smug attitude later. For now, her main goal was to get him naked and inside her.
She ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots until he groaned against her skin. She guided his mouth away from her neck and back to her lips, sealing her mouth to his.
She parted her lips and ran her tongue across his lower lip until he opened his mouth for her. She moaned into his mouth as their tongues met.
“We’re supposed to be friends,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Mm-hmm,” she agreed, moving her hips against his hand and moaning around his tongue. “We are,” she assured him, her voice breathless.
“More, Zavien,” she pleaded, pressing her hips against him again.
He slid a finger into her, groaning softly as she let out a high-pitched moan. “So wet,” he whispered, his kisses becoming more intense.
She hummed in agreement, wrapping her legs around his waist and letting her hands explore his chest. His hand moved faster against her, the sound of skin against skin filling the room as he pushed his finger deeper inside her.
“Yes,” she sighed, her voice a whisper in the dark. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Their kisses were messy and passionate, a tangle of tongues and teeth, punctuated by gasps for breath. “Fuck me,” she managed to gasp out.
“Do you—”
She cut him off with a groan, pulling his face away from hers to meet his gaze. “Yes, I want this. We can still be friends,” she assured him, pulling him back in for another kiss, her hips rolling in a silent plea for his touch.
“I think my friends are hot,” she murmured against his lips, “and I kiss them.”
She could feel the curve of his smile against her skin. “So, this is a regular thing for you?” he teased.
His fingers curled inside her, his thumb tapping lightly against her. If his intention was to render her speechless, he was doing a damn good job.
“Annoying,” she managed to gasp out. Her voice was shaky, her leg hitched up on his hip as he resumed his previous pace.
“I was going to ask if you have a condom,” he murmured. His lips brushed against hers.
She was panting, her back arching, her body taut with anticipation. “Oh,” she managed to say, her voice barely a whisper. “Oh,” she moaned as he touched her just right.
“Don’t get distracted,” he warned. His teeth grazed her lips in a smirk.
“Some in the coffee table,” she managed to say, grateful for her foresight. The couch was much closer than her bedroom.
She gasped as he lifted her up. His hand left her, but he positioned her so she could feel him against her.
She could feel the wetness he left behind on her thighs and backside as he carried her to the couch. He set her down on the couch, his pants discarded quickly.
She reached for the drawer that held her stash, but the sight of him undressing was incredibly distracting. So distracting, in fact, that she forgot about her task, instead reaching out to touch him.
She looked up at him, her gaze traveling from his arousal, up his torso, until she met his eyes. She bit her lip, holding his gaze, silently asking for his permission.
When he rested his hand on her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin, she knew she had his consent.
