“Just make it go away… Please, Kitty… I’m begging you… just make it all go away…”
I did the only thing I could think of.
The only thing that felt right in a moment that was all wrong.
I gripped the back of his neck…
And kissed him.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-ONE
ISLA
My lips parted,beckoning him to follow, and he did.
I knew we were playing with fire, but I craved the sting. Igniting the flame with just one kiss. The line didn’t exist anymore, and kissing him felt like breathing again.
He growled from deep within his chest. It was primal, urgent, and heady.
Wrapping his arms around my back, he sat us up and then lowered my body onto the stairs behind me to get on top of me. My mind scrambled with thoughts and feelings I couldn’t control, mark, or even begin to comprehend.
I put my arms around his neck as he pushed me further into the stairs, kissing me deeper, harder, and with more determination.
My chest rose and fell, faster and faster, with every glide of his tongue.
With every deep breath he inhaled.
Every caress of his fingers along my face.
Each groan that escaped his mouth.
Each moan out of mine.
I felt his heartbeat hammering against my chest, mimicking my own. They were beating together as if we were simplykeys on his piano, dancing with pleasure, mixed in with a little bit of pain. It was a beautiful tune, the music of our betrayal.
He kissed me one last time, letting his lips linger for a few seconds before pulling away. I instantly felt the loss of our heated kiss when he set his forehead on mine. Our heavy panting was the only sound in the room, filled with ghosts, demons, and the shadows of our bodies coming together as one.
He pushed the hair away from my gaze, and we locked eyes, wanting to stay lost in each other's minds. His hands framed around my face, kissing me again with the same intensity and passion, but slower, gentler this time. Less wild and distressed. We stayed like that for what felt like hours, just kissing. Completely submerged in one another.
Then our greedy hands needed more, so we started tearing at our clothes. Searching for relief from this ache, we scratched an itch we shouldn’t have. A mountain we shouldn’t have climbed. Nothing made sense other than the feeling of him on me.
I want him.
His kiss.
His touch.
His taste.
His hands all over me.
Still, we didn’t speak. It was just through reckless movements that we communicated. One right after the other, we claimed what the other was giving.
I reached for his shirt, and he helped me pull it off him before throwing it out of the way. We continued the assault on our mouths like we were glued together and couldn’t come apart for even a second.
It was erratic.
