He should say something cool, like an FBI agent might, but instead he went with the truth. “Appendectomy.”
She didn’t scoff at his mundane response. Instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against the pale line.
He inhaled sharply. His hand hovered over her head as she kissed her way over the scar, closer to the knot of the towel. Her fingers traced the edge of the terry cloth, coming ever closer. Closer. Closer. Her tongue touched his navel, and he jumped.
He finally touched her head, but only to stop her. That towel had to stay on, though it was getting more and more tented. She looked up at him, her lips wet. “Let me,” she said, and his knees nearly buckled when her teeth brushed over the knot in the terry cloth. “I want you in my mouth.”
He was primed to come already, but hearing those words had him locking his knees.
Fuck it.
He palmed the back of her neck and used his grip to bring her up to her knees in the bed. He kissed her hard. This was differentfrom the first time they’d kissed. That had been a public kiss. The one in the forest had been barely a tentative brush, like a spark.
This was for them, a full-blown wildfire. His tongue rubbed against hers, open-mouthed and hot, and she moaned into his mouth. Her arms snaked around his neck, and he hauled her up against him, both of them devouring each other.
He separated only to murmur against her lips, “I’d prefer to eat you up.” He released her, urging her to sit on the bed. He’d always been conscious of his size and bulk when he was with a woman, but his motions were rough and desperate. Like if he didn’t get his mouth on her, he’d die.
He came to his knees on the floor beside the bed, then grabbed her legs and hoisted her closer to the edge, the momentum making her fall back. She caught herself on her elbows, her fingers crushing the blankets as he pulled her forward, tilting her pelvis up to him. He squeezed her thighs, spreading her until there was ample space for him between her legs.
She wasn’t wearing pants. He bit the inside of one thigh, just as he’d wanted to since he’d first seen her thick legs encased in tight jeans. Her muscle contracted under his fingers.
He shoved her big shirt up, pausing when he realized she was wearing men’s boxer briefs. “Sorry, the women’s underwear was too small,” she said in a rush.
“This is fine,” he muttered and stripped them off in one smooth motion. She gasped when his fingers found her slippery lips, and gasped harder when he used two fingers to spread her open for his mouth.
Everything around them disappeared. The world became the bed and his mouth and her body. He used her muted sounds and body movements to guide him, used his lips and tongue to lickand kiss her. When he found her clit, her back arched, and he stayed right there, following the cues of her body, sucking and tonguing her, keeping his touch consistent.
She tasted spicy and sweet and like a million fantasies, and he moaned into her. Her thighs tightened around his head, and given how strong she was, it was not an insignificant amount of pressure. He loved it. She could use him for a Thighmaster literally any day.
Triumph coursed through his veins along with lust, as the vibrations of her body caressed his tongue. She gave a long, shuddery sigh and her legs relaxed.
The room was silent as he pulled away. He ran the back of his hand over his mouth. His tongue had been buried deep in her, and he was already salivating for more. Her taste and scent were all over him, and he wanted to bathe in her, be consumed by her.Fuckher.
She lay there as he came to his feet, chest working. Her shirt was worked up over her hip bones, and the dim light revealed a shadowy glimmer of brown flesh and dark curls. “Get inside me,” she murmured, and he took a step forward to do just that.
Condom.
Oh. No. Though this house was well appointed, he seriously doubted there were prophylactics somewhere.
Wait. What are you doing? Sex? With this woman? The woman you didn’t trust mere daysago?A Chaudhary?
Metaphorical cold water doused him, enough to clear his head, if not enough to kill his erection. They couldn’t have sex, and not merely because the logistics weren’t conducive to safe sex.
This was a fucking inconvenient time for his pragmatic brain to make a reappearance, wasn’t it? He cleared his throat. “I, uh. We should get some sleep.”
Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”
No.“Yes.”
He grabbed the pack of underwear, which he could see now was missing one, and though he felt slightly foolish, he turned away to put a pair on. He had to drop the towel, and she might as well have caressed his ass, so hot was her gaze on it. Krish grimaced as he adjusted his still raging erection in the boxer briefs.
He turned back to the bed to find Sejal sitting in the midst of the disheveled bedding, her shirt covering her to mid-thigh, her face somber. He grabbed the pajama pants that had also been left for him.
Say something.But what? Awkwardness had already settled in, blanketing them in confusion. He had no idea or explanation for what had just happened. It had exploded out of nowhere, a moment of time when they’d both forgotten who they were and what they meant to each other. He opened his mouth. “Can I borrow a pillow?”
She blinked at him. “What?”
He gestured to the couch. “I’ll sleep over there.”
