"I’ll tell Vanessa," Don promised her. "She’ll meet you there. Consider it my wedding gift."
I retreated to the mansion’s library, the scent of old leather and dust a sharp contrast to the floral air of the ballroom. I leaned against a heavy armchair, my eyes fixed on the door, waiting for her to storm in.
"Kitty..." I breathed as she entered.
She didn't hesitate. She shook her head as if to silence the world, stopping only inches from me. Her fingers traced my jawline, a touch so light it burned, before I pulled her into a kiss that tasted like eighteen months of starvation. I gripped her waist, lifting her until her feet barely touched the floor, our tongues tangling in a desperate, wordless conversation.
"Shh... don't talk," she whispered, pressing her finger to my lips when I tried to speak. The tulle of her gown was a frustrating barrier, but her scent, that lavender and fire, cut through everything. I felt like I was going to ignite.
"Meg..." I pulled away, my voice a ragged rasp. "You look beautiful. I’m sorry. For all of it."
The apology was a mistake. I watched the arousal in her eyes flicker and die, replaced by a cold, hard clarity.
"I’m sorry too," she said, her voice dropping an octave. "I was wrong to think I wanted anything from you tonight." She turned toward the door, her posture rigid. I caught her arm, staring into eyes filled with a year’s worth of hurt and doubt.
"Calm down. Let me talk," I pleaded. She leaned against the doorway, her hand outstretched to keep the distance between us.
"You know we have to end this now, don't you?" she asked.
I nodded. The logic was there, cold and unyielding. I started to speak, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. "I know our time was short, but it was intense... it was free... it was…"
"Yes, it was," she interrupted.
As I spoke, her fingers found the buttons on the side of her dress. She undid them with a slow, deliberate rhythm. I lost the thread of my own sentence. She lowered the straps, letting the expensive white silk and tulle pool at her feet like a discarded skin.
When my eyes took in the sight of her in white lace lingerie, the bride in her truest form, a dark, mischievous smile tugged at my lips.
"You’re trying to kill me," I rasped.
"No," Megan said, her gaze pinning me to the spot. "I want you to fuck me."
#55
"Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home” Taylor Swift
Istepped out of the discarded layers of white tulle, my movements deliberate. I leaned down to adjust my stockings, ensuring the lace of the garter belt sat perfectly against my skin, all while I felt Kelsey’s gaze burning into me. Her eyes were trapped, unable to rise above the swell of my breasts and the line of my thighs.
When I reached her, I took her chin in my hand, tilting her face up to mine. I bit her lower lip just hard enough to draw a gasp, and when she reached out to claim me, I caught her wrists, pinning them back with a slow shake of my head. Not yet.
"Damn..." she rasped, her voice breaking.
I moved to the center of the plush carpet and knelt. I lowered my head, tucking my arms behind my back in a silent, familiargesture of submission. The library felt like a sanctuary of shadows. Kelsey reached out, her hand a steadying weight as she helped me rise.
She sank into the heavy mahogany armchair and pulled me toward her by the hips, her touch possessive and urgent. With practiced, calm hands, she unhooked the sides of my garter belt and slid my panties down, careful not to disturb the line of my stockings.
"Hmm," I hummed, the vibration of my own voice echoing the spark of her touch. She offered a dark, knowing smile.
"Step here." She swatted my thigh lightly. As I reached down to unbuckle my heel, she stopped me with a look. I stepped onto her thigh instead, the sharp heel sinking into the fabric of her suit. A low moan escaped her as she felt the pressure, her mouth finding the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
"I shouldn't do this..." she whispered against my skin. "You’re the most dangerous kind of addiction, Megan. If I taste you again, I’m never going to be able to let go."
She rested her forehead against my knee, her eyes looking up at me with a mixture of worship and despair.
"Don't think about 'later,'" I commanded, my voice trembling. "I need to kill this withdrawal, Kelsey. Just one last time."
"I’ll be there," Kelsey whispered, her voice a jagged promise against my skin. "I’ll be there the day you can finally be mine."
It was the last thing she said before her fingers traced the line of my lips, and every rational thought I had left dissipated into the shadows of the library.
