He brought my hand to his mouth, his eyes never leaving me as he rolled his lips across my knuckles. Of all the passion we’d shared, there’d been nothing as intimate or as sensual as what he was doing right now. “Then just how am I going to do that, my perfect little teacher?”
“By opening your heart. By feeling everything without shutting down no matter how amazing or painful it is. That’s the beauty of life. Sharing all your experiences with someone who will be there when you need it.”
His eyes continued searching mine as he took the bottle from my hand, placing both on the coffee table. There was a slow and easy feeling about his actions, nothing as frenetic as I’d experienced before with him. This was where he was most comfortable, allowing himself to wallow in his pain and guilt.
The open space did little to hide the invisible bars and chains hanging from the ceiling, shackles he’d forced around himself not long after hearing about Emily. Much like I wanted to do right now.
There was no need for further words. Our connection was such that we understood each other better than two people who’d been together for years. While the electricity was off the charts, so was the understanding that we were like Romeo and Juliet.
Never destined to be free of our personal prisons.
Yet for tonight, the need to feel alive was strong, so much so my chest ached. He took a deep breath, brushing his finger down my neck, darting his eyes toward me as he did. They were filled with amusement and desire. He continued his exploration bybrushing the tip of the satin ribbon on my corset. With barely any movement, he pulled the string, taking a deep breath as soon as he did. As the leather and lace gave way, his entire expression changed. The way he lowered his gaze, the hunger in his eyes and the intensity of his nostrils flaring said more than any words could.
For the first time, there was no rush. And I definitely didn’t want to take a single moment for granted. Being with him, touching him, feeling his cock buried deep inside of me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
Not only because of the physical sensations, but also the emotions behind them.
When his shirt was removed, I crowded closer, my heated gaze trailing behind my fingers as I kneaded his chest. The look in his eyes was as frighteningly possessive as I’d seen, the darkness of his pupils utterly mesmerizing.
Since I’d been around him, it always seemed as if danger sizzled in the air and with a split second of activity, our cautionary relationship could be shattered.
Yet the thought of losing control was exciting. Never knowing what would happen next.
We were suddenly both on our knees, the rhythm of our actions, the rapid thread of our pulse exactly the same. As I unfastened his trousers, he reached for the zipper on my skirt, a slow and dazzling smile creating another wave of desire.
I was so lost in the sweet moment that I barely paid any attention to him lifting me into his arms so he could remove the remainder of my clothes.
When we were completely naked, he rolled his hands over my shoulders, crawling just the tips of his fingers down my back. With every second that passed, the tingling sensations increased until I was completely breathless and incapable of thinking.
Which was fine since I didn’t want to fall prey to the all-consuming guilt and fear.
With his large hands wrapped around my buttocks and his fingers digging into my skin, he tugged me closer. “So fucking beautiful.” He gripped the back of my neck, using the leverage to stare into my eyes.
This time as he lowered his head, I wasn’t about to let him back away. I captured his mouth, immediately thrusting my tongue inside. Kissing him was usually ferocious, the roughness jarring yet delicious.
In the early hours of the morning, the moment of intimacy was more about forgiveness, a momentary freeing of the guilt I’d mentioned to him before.
Yet even in the rush of our chemical reaction, the increasing need that could soon resume its former frenzy, a thought had taken residence in my mind.
This was also a goodbye.
Not of working together to end the nightmare, but of the passion that had kept us from falling prey to our anxieties.
I shoved it aside as the kiss deepened, only as I’d anticipated, Kendrick had no intention of allowing me to keep control for long.
He held me possessively, exploring every centimeter of the darkest recesses of my mouth. I could feel the pressure building, the crush of yearning already spiraling.
The touch of his skin seared my fingertips and the weight of his body against me was incredible. I was lightheaded, the rapid flutter of my heart creating echoes in my ears.
I knew the moment he was finished with any foreplay, the rumble coming from deep within his chest forming a husky growl as soon as his lips were pulled from mine.
Finally, we were both breathless, the slow and steady ease from before turning into something much deeper, even darker. And so pronounced that as soon as he lowered me onto the couch on my back, he pressed the tip of his cock against my pussy lips. With his body hovering over mine, the slow shake of his head screamed of the feelings he could never easily express.
If ever at all.
I pressed my hand against his chest, knowing he was asking my permission. As soon as I wrapped my hand around his cock, the hard pulse against my fingers brought a slight moan. Why had I found the one man who’d not only awakened but had managed to nurture the woman locked away, only to know we weren’t right for each other?
As soon as I guided the tip inside, he took a ragged breath. In my mind, my hero was both the sweetest sin and the darkest salvation.
