“I very desperately want to kiss you.”
My mouth forms into a line. “And that’s bad because…?”
He takes a deep intake of air into his lungs and looks at me. I mean—really looks at me. Deep into my being. “Because I’m afraid if do, I won’t be able to stop.”
I elevate my body and collapse onto his chest. “Then, don’t.” If anything is like his previous kisses, I’m in for a passionate road ahead.
His hand reaches behind my head and I watch in slow motion as his beautiful face moves toward mine. The moment our lips touch, all of my other senses go haywire, feeling everything. Pleasure, need, hunger…want. So much want. I want everything he has to offer. In this moment, I don’t care what the future holds. I don’t care if he finds out about my shattered past and hates it. In this instant, I only care about him and the feelings he’s unleashing in and on my body.
His grip on my hair tightens as the kiss deepens. We moan together, feeling the pleasure poring from our bodies. His lips are sweet at first. Restrained and guarded. Almost as if he’s willing himself to slow down. But, I don’t want him controlled. I want him wild. I want him like the rain pours down. Taking no prisoners. The rain doesn’t care who it drenches; it just comes down, down, down. Soaking you. I want him forceful and firm, taking me how he wants. Just like the rain.
The thought of stopping makes me physically ill. This moment, being with him, in his warm, comforting embrace might be the most beautiful moment of my life. It’s heated and perfect. Stopping isn’t an option.
My hands move down his torso, taut and hard. His muscles move and bend under my touch and I feel myself growing wet as every second passes. The swirl of his tongue sends me high and I bite his bottom lip.
“I don’t think I’ve wanted anything or anyone as much as I want you, my Pretty Girl,” he hums in between kissing up and down my neck. “Nothing is as good as being with you. You have me soaring.”
He doesn’t have much time to say anything else before I’m pulling him up by his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. He grabs at my blouse, unbuttoning every button with detailed precision. When he opens my shirt, he simply stares, eyes electric. He puts his hand in between my breasts and just touches—feels.
“Come to bed with me. As much as I want you. Here. Now, I’ve gotta have you in bed. Slowly.”
I nod my head, unable to form any coherent words. It’s almost as if the hand that’s resting on my chest is somehow digging into my body, willing my heart to beat violently. He’s able to control me.
I wonder if I do the same.
I gently move off of his body and stand, watching him swing his legs off the couch. His body lifts and like a peacock, he looks big and alarming. Proud.
Grabbing my hand, he leads me up the stairs, stopping half way to pin me against the wall to thoroughly kiss me.
Hauling me to his room, he opens the door, turns on a small light on his nightstand and the cool air whooshes against my face. The blindingly white down blanket shines bright, but the dark, patterned pillows offset the brightness of the covers.
“Christ, you’re beautiful.”