“What more would you want?” Her eyes widen, and her voice hitches in her throat, a breathlessness to it.
Time between us stretches into a tight wire, and I know I want my next words to be honest, because she has to feel it too.
“What if I say I want to touch you without having to make excuses to do it?”
She goes perfectly still, and I pull my arm back from around her shoulder, turning to her. When I do, she does too, until our faces are inches apart.
“I think about your skin under my hands.” I brush my fingers lightly down her arm, feeling her shiver. “About what sounds you'd make if I touched you just right.”
“But what if it’s a bad idea?” she whispers as she leans closer.
“We’ll never know until we try.” I reach up to cup her face, my thumb brushing her lower lip. “Tell me to stop, Gela. Tell me you don't want this, too.”
Her brows furrow, and for a moment, I think this will be the moment she tells me she wants me to stop. But the next thing I know, her eyes soften, and she whispers my name in surrender.
She begins to move, inch by inch, her eyes flicking to my lips, and I meet her halfway. When I kiss her, she’s soft and warm and feels like coming home.
My heart instantly soars, while my head tells me never to let her go.
She came dangerously close to trouble today, and I want to kiss her silly, taste away my hunger, soothe away her worries, until nothing but Gela and I exist.
I savor the taste of her, the softness of her lips, the little gasp she makes when I deepen the kiss. Her hands curl into my shirt, and I slide my hand to the back of her neck, cradling her head.
The kiss stretches, slow and sweet, and I never want it to end.
But then, she pulls away with those swollen lips of hers and eyes dark with want. It takes everything in me not to push her back against the couch and show her exactly what she does to me.
“Still think this is a bad idea?” I ask, worried I might have pushed her too far.
She looks at me for a long moment, then shakes her head slowly. “Probably. But I don't care anymore.”
And then she's the one pulling me back in.
Chapter 14 - Gela
I slide my hands around his neck and part my lips, inviting him in. His tongue meets mine, and that beautiful electric feeling zaps right through me.
Instantly, I start feeling better. Every moment of panic becomes a fading memory because when I kiss Valentin, it feels like nothing can touch our orbit. My fingers curl into his hair, and I tug him closer, because suddenly, just kissing him doesn’t feel enough.
I need more. I need all of him. That need dissolves into something hotter, burning between my legs, and in search for more, I end up on his lap. I straddle him around his legs until our chests are crushed against each other.
And still, he pulls me closer.
I moan as I slide my tongue to the roof of his mouth and feel him harden against my jeans. The ridge of his cock presses exactly where I need it, and I begin to grind into him, devastatingly slow.
“Gela Jones, you’re driving me crazy,” he groans against my mouth.
And that’s the thing. I want to drive him crazy, so damn crazy he can’t think straight.
My head is spinning, my body taking over where my brain has short-circuited. I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, seeking what I chase.
“You sure?” he asks, pulling back once to search my eyes.
“Can you not question me right now? You’ve been running through my mind for days, and I’m tired of fighting it.”
So damn tired, in fact, that I confessed it before I could stop myself.
His mouth curves into that devilish half-grin that makes my stomach flip. Then his hands find the hem of my blouse, and he lifts it slowly, savoring every inch of my naked skin.
