“Well yes, but there’s a lot of history I don’t particularly want to relive.”
“I understand,” I look toward my hands, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I wasn’t offended, Marly,” He reaches for me, finger curling under my chin, “Just – I shut down. I don’t want to talk about them.”
My eyes bounce between his and then drop to his lips.
He’s so close and he smells so damn good. Would it be so bad? Just to get a taste? Just a little taste to satisfy the curiosity inside of me?
“Marly,” His voice is a low, warning rasp.
“Mm?” I reply, wetting my lips.
His throat works on a swallow, “You need to stop looking at me like that.”
I snap out of it and yank my face away, moving to get off the bed and put distance between us. His eyes burn where they touch me, hooded and darker than they were before. The muscles in his jaw twitch and his hands fist against the tops of his thigh.
“Fuck it,” He growls before he’s off the bed and in front of me in two steps, his hands cradling my face. And then his lips are on mine and I’m helpless to stop it. My hands wrap around his wrists as his mouth moves on mine, his tongue teasing at the seam of my lips. Instinctively, I open for him and pull him closer as I step forward, our bodies touching in every place. There’s a rumble of sound from his throat as he tilts my face and plunges his tongue deeper, tangling with mine and all I can do is hang on. I kiss him back with as much as I get, tasting him, feeling him.
My thighs ache with the building pressure in my core, my stomach in knots and my heart pounding. I feel his own arousal, pressing into my lower abdomen, his fingers threaded into my hair.
The kiss slows but doesn’t stop, turning more languid and explorative over feral and desperate. My hands slip from his wrists and down his forearms before I move them to his waist, gripping his t-shirt, afraid he’ll move away if I don’t hold on.
Kissing River is more than I could have imagined. It’s explosive. It’s like he’s breathing life into me with every stroke of his tongue, and I never want it to end.
I forget everything, I forget who I am, forget we exist in two very different lives and just take every second of what he is giving.
His hand slides around to the back of my skull while the other moves down the curve of my spine to rest on my lower back. He presses us even firmer together and the feel of his hard length only serves to make the ache worse. I’m wet, my thighs physically trembling.
His mouth moves away from mine but only to go to my jaw, and then my throat, his teeth scraping over the skin, and I let out a breathy moan, my skin pebbling with every teasing threat of his teeth.
He groans, “Tell me to stop, Marly.”
My nails sink into his back instead.
His teeth bite a little harder, hard enough to mark at least and I gasp, melting into him enough that it feels like he’s holding me up. I feel so weak for him, like I could stay and let him have me in every single way he wants.
I’ve been kissed before but never like this. Never like they own me, in every single way. His mouth finally comes back to mine but he’s gentle as he cradles my head and starts to walk us, still joined, toward the bed.
“You taste like fucking heaven, princess,” He rasps against my mouth as my knees hit the edge of my mattress. I fall back but he follows, laying his much larger body across mine, one thigh spreading mine apart while his other rests on the other side of me. He presses it up higher, adding pressure to my pussy and then captures my moan at the sensation with his mouth.
He does nothing but kiss me, he doesn’t move his thigh, just keeps it there, a constant pressure that drives me wild with need.
“Tell me this is what you want,” He growls, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of my mouth.
“I want this,” I moan, unable to lie.
“Fuck,” He groans dipping his head to my neck once more. I’m fully prepared to give it all, all the rules and reasons why it’s a bad idea have long gone out of my head. His hand slides under my tee, the tips of his fingers running beneath my breast but right before he can reach my nipple, reach the spot that aches just as bad, a loud buzz screams through the house.
We fly apart, my head bumping into the headboard as he gets to his feet, glaring toward the bedroom door, “The fuck was that?” He asks.
“Someone buzzing at the gate,” I say breathlessly, remembering we ordered food and grab my cell to unlock the gate to let him up to deliver.
“Right,” River moves for the door and then pauses, “We’re alone, right?”
“Yes, it’s just us here.”
“Okay, I’ll get the food.”
