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Must touch it . . .
Hot, raging longing fills my every cell. Blood pumps so fiercely in my ears that I ca
She flicks through some pages and I can’t make out what she’s muttered.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
I’m afraid she’s about to order me off her bed, but instead she goes on about the summer poetry assignment. Passion is spouting from her pores and I sit up. I can’t wait to throw my poetic genius at her.
She goes on and on, oblivious of her own beauty as she waves her fists and purses her lips in indignation. “The beauty of poetry is that it can mean different things to different people at different times. . . . It’s wrong to dissect poetry like this!”
She throws down her paper, breathing hard, and I suddenly ca
But she doesn’t smack my hand or move away. She stares at me, and I stare back.
This girl.
I am no match for her.
“Seriously,” she whispers. “You’re doing that bedroom-eyes thing again.”
Bloody right I am.
All at once we’re both crossing the space, crashing in a blaze of lips, ready and seeking, needing and wanting. God, it’s that epic feeling again. Like I will die if we can’t devour each other and become one. I’m awash in her pear and freesia scent. It tantalizes my every sense.
Our mouths embrace. I’m losing myself, just as I did the other night, and I can’t stop it from happening. This is like no lust I’ve ever experienced. It is all-consuming the way her tongue licks at mine, greeting, teasing, inviting me in further. And so I go.
She kicks her school things to the floor, and I know this is happening.
I must have more of her.
My mouth pulls away, landing on the slight saltiness of her neck. The moan she lets out swells inside my ears and I am flipping her, cradled so perfectly by her legs, ready to own her. There’s hunger in her dark eyes as she feels me pressing on all the tender places where no other bloke has ever been. She’s gasping and making the sexiest little noises.
I’m surprised when A
The feel of her hands grasping at me—knowing she wants me as I want her—is incredible. I am going to take my time with her, and it’s going to take all night.
And then I remember with a pang of disappointment. “What time will Patti be calling?”
“Not for an hour,” she whispers.
Far too soon. “That simply is not going to be enough time.” I don’t want any distractions, but I’ll take what time I can get. I flip us again so she’s on top and I have better access to remove her clothing. I’m leaning partly against the pillows and headboard, and A
I have to be careful on this next part because she freaked last time I went near her chest. I will not go for the grab. I concentrate on her shoulders, kissing the smooth skin, and working her bra straps down. Going slow is driving me mad. I want her naked ten minutes ago. I can’t remember the last time I’ve gone this long or wanted something more.
I feel for the back of her strap but then decide to leave her bra on. As much as I want her completely naked, I’ve known since the night we met that she’s self-conscious of her chest size. Completely ridiculous, of course. I’ll leave that discovery for later.
When A
One hand goes around her back and I lift my hips, turning us over so she’s lying on her back again. I move down, kissing a path along her breastbone, down to the soft mound at the top of her bra. As if begging me not to stop, A
Ah, God, this is unbelievable. At every moment I keep expecting her to stop me, but she never does. I move down her stomach to her gorgeous belly button, kissing and tasting every inch. When I get to her shorts I look up and her eyes are shut. Her whole body is fluid, squirming and ready for me.
Take her.
But . . .
Does she know what she’s doing? She mightn’t be thinking clearly. . . .
Doesn’t matter.
My body is screaming. I’m so close. This is what I’ve wanted. I won’t stop now.
With one flick, the button of her shorts is undone. My hands slide under her back and she arches for me. I love the responsiveness of her body, so completely in tune with mine. I lick the skin I’ve just exposed and she sucks in a massive breath.
This is nothing, I want to tell her. Wait until you feel what’s next.
She has no idea what she’s in for, and though it’s all good things in my mind, I feel a sudden unwelcome pang of guilt just as I’m about to unzip her shorts. My defenses go up. I’ve no reason to feel guilty. I warned her. She knows who I am and what I’m after. So why do I feel the need to warn her again?
“My parents were soul mates in heaven,” she’d told me. She’d been created in love by an angel and a demon who were separated because of others’ lies and deceit. She is nothing like me. She gives all her money away to needy strangers, and has a heart for the downtrodden.
Who cares? Keep going, you bloody fool, before she changes her mind!
I never let myself think of how the girl will feel afterward while I’m working, but this doesn’t feel like a job. I don’t want it to be a job. I shove my i
“Now would be the time to stop me, luv. You’re about to be undressed, and trust me when I say it will be too late after that.”
She’s going to stop me now. I know it, and I feel a sense of relief. I kiss her stomach one last time while I can, so grateful to be this close to her for these fleeting moments.
And then she says in a sultry voice, “No, Kai. Don’t stop.”
I freeze. She’s giving permission.
Don’t stop.
I have to kiss the mouth that said those words. When I do, our bodies move together, and she’s clinging to me, rocking me from the inside out. And though there’s clothing between us, it’s the most sensual and satisfying thing I’ve ever experienced.
My chest swells with an abundance of that feeling only A
It’s time to stop.
“We . . . ,” I mumble. “Baby, I . . . we have to . . .” Stop.
I am baffled by this thought. It’s as if it’s coming from a greater power outside me. With sudden clarity I know A