All the air in my lungs sits suspended as I wait for his response.
"Laney," he says, chest heaving. His hand leaves the space between us and he touches his lips, like he’s confirming they were pressed against mine moments ago. His eyes burn into me and I see the confusion there.
I feel it too.
I never knew a kiss could feel like every star in the universe shone brighter the moment we connected.
"Princess," he whispers as he gathers himself. I see him wanting to shutter himself closed while the nickname pulls at my heart to stay open to him. "If we do this. I won't be able to stop, I'm not strong enough, so if you don't want this to go any further you need to say something right now."
"No." I insist.
"No? We’re done?"
"No!"
"We’re not done?" His eyebrows collapse together in confusion.
"Yes."
"Laney, help me out here. I need more than one word."
My lips are buzzing so I lick them and force myself to breathe as normally as possible.
"I kissed you." I report.
"Yes."
I smile because he’s just as dumbstruck as I am.
"So, yes, I want more."
"How much more?" His Adam's apple bobs in his throat.
I spread my legs a little wider, feeling like a fucking goddess. Miguel's gaze falls to my core and his whiskey eyes somehow darken further.
"Be a good girl and take my shirt off." I cross my arms in front of me and grasp the hem of his t-shirt. "Slowly."
With each inch I lift the shirt I see his grip tighten on the counter across from me. There is a chance he snaps the marble clean off.
I lose sight of him for a moment as I drag the cotton over my head. My braid falls from the collar and brushes against my back and I toss the shirt on the counter next to me and pull my braid over my shoulder.
My skin tingles with the awareness of my nakedness, of the sudden exposure to the air conditioned room, and with the knowledge his eyes are on me.
All I can do is remind myself to breathe as Miguel drinks up the view in front of him. His face remains stoic and I can’t tell if he likes what he sees or not.
The urge to curl in on myself, to grab the shirt and run out the door crushes against my ribs as my stomach contracts.
I’m about to jump and run when Miguel takes a step forward but his hands remain around the cold edge of the island.
At an agonizingly slow pace he crosses to me. His warm, rough hands start on my shins and travel up. When he reaches my knees he grips them and pushes up until my heels can rest on the counter. Only then does he trail his hands down my inner thighs and each increment closer sets my awaiting pussy on fire.
When he reaches the hem of his boxer briefs he teases the sensitive skin along the border and I shudder.
"You want this? Me? Us?" He asks as his eyes bore into mine.
"Yes." I exhale.Desperately.
"Show me." He demands as he grips my thigh.
