That pink deepens and my dick twitches.
“Or maybe not,” I murmur, stroking my hand along her spine, hitching her leg over my hips. The lush weight of her thigh brushes my erection and it takes everything in me to not groan, to not thrust up into her. “What were you going to say?”
She moans softly and burrows closer. “I think you know.”
“Baby.”
Lips on my throat, her legs shifting over me, her breasts pressed to my side.
Right.
This is good…and bad.
Because I only have one fucking hand right now.
Those lips trail up, slowly make their way to my jaw, to my ear. “You’re the only…” She flicks her tongue out and I groan, clutching her leg closer to me, grinding myself against her. Fuck that feels good…
And it’s not nearly enough.
“The only,” she says again, teeth nipping at my skin.
“The only what?” I rasp as my dick gets even harder.
“The only man I want to kiss.” Lips on my neck again. “To touch.” Her hand settles on my chest and starts moving south “To lick.” Another flick of that tongue as those fingers drift lower and lower and lower, until they halt, one tapping an inch above the waistband of my sweats. “And maybe…”
I tense, blood having followed her hand on its journey, all but leaving my brain barely functioning and my cock…my cock harder than I’ve ever been.
Lips at my ear. “…to suck.”
Fuck.
“Kylie.”
Thirty-One
Ky
He says my name like it’s a promise…and a warning.
“What?” I ask innocently, tapping my fingers on the hard plane of his lower abs.
This is so the wrong time for this but also…maybe it’s the right time.
To get this man who looks after everyone but himself to give up control.
To accept some care in return.
To touch him as I’ve dreamed of, to make him feel good, to continue smoothing down the roughened edges of pain inside me, transforming them from something barbed and ugly into…
More.
Beauty and hope.
And moving forward with someone who’s…
Important and in my heart and who…I’m falling for.
No.
