“Christian,” Lana begs, her hands pushing down on my head.Thisis my favorite part. With my hands at the back of her knees, I push her legs up to her chest and hold them open. “Christian, fuck.”
Lana is crying out, her moans, squeals, and screams echoing around me—and she comes one more time before I relent and lower her legs. She pants as I kiss up and down her inner thighs. I kiss her hip bones, her stomach, her ribcage, between her breasts, and I lower her shirt.
Her eyes are closed once I’m over her and between her legs, her head to the side like she might be asleep. I kiss her neck softly, once, and then another because I can’t help myself.
Everything about me…
Whatevergoodthing there is about me is because of her. Everything good about me wasmadeby her—crafted and molded and shaped, all of it by her hand.
Since I’m human, I kiss her neck again and let my head rest there for a moment, until she comes back from her orgasm haze and tells me to get off and go away. Until she tells me that she should have never let me in to sleep in her guest room and that she hates me.
“Christian,” Lana says, and I hear it all in her voice already.
I close my burning eyes to keep the emotion to myself tonight. Later, I’ll sit with it and sort it out.
“Christian?”
“Not yet,” I beg. “Please.”
She pauses before she murmurs, “Sixty seconds.”
I tell myself to count, but I don’t even care, I’ll take whatever she wants to give me. When I finally pull back, I’m not sure if I’m early or late because her eyes are peacefully closed and I don’t know if she’s been counting either. I kneel between her legs and reach for her clothes.
Her eyes open slowly when I lower her legs and pull her shorts back up. She lifts her hips and I settle them around her waist. I lower the shirt to cover her chest again but I pause to kiss above her belly button—just for myself.
“Christian…”
I shake my head. I stand and help her up, and I can’t figure out what she’s thinking or wants to say, I only know what’s in my head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Scratching the back of my head, I grab my bags and turn down the small hallway. I open the door to the guest room and don’t look back. I can’t look back because I don’t know what I’ll do if I look at her now. I’ll probably just do something reckless like go back and grab her and bring her to bed with me so I can hold her.
Since I took a shower at the gym before coming back to her driveway, I strip down to my boxer briefs. I get in under the comforter, sighing at the feel of her mattress and soft sheets, and finally being able to sleep like this again.
“Christian?”
The door opens and I sit up. “What’s wrong?”
Lana shakes her head and steps in, closing the door behind her. She shifts on her feet, her smooth, olive legs glowing from the moonlight pouring in, and she pushes hair behind her ears.
I move to sit at the edge of the bed and she walks toward the side I’m on, standing in front of me. “What’s wrong, Lana?”
Her lips part and I hear the way her breath hitches. Then she takes a step closer, her eyes roaming over my body. She continues toward me until she stops between my opened legs.
“You walked away from me,” she whispers.
“I had to.”
“You didn’t,” Lana says, standing between my knees and putting a hand on my cheek.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“I want you, Lana,” I confess. “I want you and I miss you and I need you and when I touch you, I don’t want to let you go.”
She lightly scratches at the stubble around my jaw. “You didn’t have to walk away.”
“I did. You deserve better from me.”
