Chapter
Twenty-Three
“I can’t believe this,”Kenny moaned, burying her face in Smith’s chest as they lay in bed together later that night. They were watching yetanotherreaction video to their kiss.
Some unknown woman in a beanie, with a septum piercing and a teardrop tattoo below her eye, swooned dramatically when Smith swooped Kenny up into his arms.
Smith had rather nervously told Kenny about the so-called “kiss cam” footage after an intensely satisfying lovemaking session.
Alarmed but nowhere near as upset as Smith appeared to be, Kenny had insisted he show her.
The original clip had spawned countless copies, many of them stupid reaction videos like this one. There were people rhapsodizing about how romantic it was, others who were irrationally pissed off about the fact that Smith had picked her up—something about normalizing the insidious and chronic infantilizationof women in mainstream entertainment today. One inexplicably angry man had ranted about everything beingAI these days. He very helpfully circled the “clearly fake” portions of the video in bright red.
Most unsettling were the comments. People demanding to know who they were. Where they were. How they knew each other. Wanting to know every detail of their lives and relationship. It was a little terrifying how something like this made people feel like they somehow owned a piece of another person.
They’d been identified very quickly, which was to be expected when they were both from prominent families. A concerned Smith had vowed to speak with Sam Brand in the morning about security. Just in case.
Kenny wasn’t particularly concerned about her safety. She’d lived in a security bubble for most of her life. Publicity wasn’t anything new to her.
She didn’t really care that their kiss had been made so very public. She was mostly fascinated at the uproar that their very private moment had created.
But one thingdidbother her…
“Oh my God,” she whispered, aghast. “Millionsof people have seen my nipples, Smith! Why didn’t you tell me that dress was so transparent?”
Her lament brought a rumbling chuckle from him and his arms tightened around her.
“Honestly? I was enjoying the view too much myself,” he admitted, then surprised her by clamping his mouth over one of said nipples, scraping his teeth over the hardening nub before soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue.
She gasped, then moaned.
He lifted his head, to stare down at the wet, erect peak of her breast, practically oozing self-satisfaction.
He lay his head down on her breast, his mouth so close to her nipple, she could feel his warm breath washing over the sensitive skin.
She idly ran her fingers through his thick mane of hair as she continued to scroll through the outrageous reaction posts to their kiss.
Seeing the kiss itself was revelatory. So much hunger, desire, pain, yearning andheatin one embrace. She could see why it had instantly appealed to so many people. If it had been a couple of random strangers, Kenny would have envied their passion and the very evident depth of feeling they appeared to share for each other.
But it was hard to reconcile the emotion that appeared to drive the embrace with her and Smith’s relationship. The saying was the camera never lies…so what was she supposed to make of this? Of the naked vulnerability in his face, the helpless craving in hers?
“Are you going to be watching that for much longer?” Smith asked, his voice aggrieved. “Because I can think of so much else we could be doing right now.”
His words snagged her interest and her hand lowered as she looked down into his smokey eyes.
“Like what?” she asked, a telling purr creeping into her voice. “Tell me.”
“Kenna, I’m a show, not tell kind of guy.”
Phone forgotten, she smiled, and settled back against the pillows.
“Well then, why don’t youshowme?”
He made a gruff, primal sound and moved as swiftly as a striking snake. In seconds, Kenny was on her stomach and he was straddling the back of her thighs, hard cock sandwiched in the cleft of her bum.
Kenny had never enjoyed feeling helpless, but right now, pinned to the bed, unable to move, she’d never felt safer.
Or more turned on.
