“Why is that?” Jesus Christ, why can’t I tear my eyes from that delectable mouth?
“’Cause then I wouldn’t want you to kiss me.”
Her sultry words send my overheated blood straight to my cock. With my eyes still locked on her lips, I lean even closer, leaving barely an inch between us.
“Then it is a good thing I’m not him,” I rasp before capturing her mouth with mine.
The first contact of her lips, their pillowy softness, strikes me with the force of a bullet to the chest. An instant jolt, an inferno in my veins.
I slide my hand from her jaw to the back of her neck, locking her in place while I claim her every sound. While I devour her lips. Breathe in her scent. Sweet vanilla. Warm and floral. Tempting. Just like her.
My tongue invades her mouth, and I’m lost. She tastes like a decadent dessert, and like something I never should have touched. But I can’t stop. I bite her bottom lip, then suck the sting away. And then do it again and again, just to feel her reaction. Whatever restraint I clung to before is gone. There’s only her. And my insatiable hunger for this woman.
I’m practically fucking her mouth because I can’t get enough of her. This isn’t a tender kiss. It isn’t timid. Or exploratory. This is possession, bared to its most primal form.
As she exhales, I swallow her breath. It belongs to me. My body tenses with the effort not to go too far. To not strip her of other things. Her heated touch. Her breathy moans. To not tear her apart, piece by piece, until everything of hers belongs to me.
Christ! I can’t get enough of the incredible sounds she makes. Her delicious taste. The feel of her plush lips on mine. The way her tongue slides in and out of my mouth. I never imagined a kiss could feel like this. Like the sweetest victory and the most brutal defeat at once. Like I’ve lost a battle but won the war. Or is it the other way around?
My mind is reeling from this kiss. Is that normal? Is it because of her? Her soft lips? Jesus fuck, there’s nothing soft about my reaction to her. There’s nothing soft about me right now.
I pull back, scraping her lip once more with my teeth as I do. Releasing her mouth is like fighting gravity. I feel like my entire world has just been knocked off its axis. By this one fucking kiss.
I watch her while she regains her breath. Take in her slightly parted, swollen lips. Reddened and still wet from our kiss. It’s like I left a mark on her. Others might see it, but they won’t know it’s from me. I wish they would. So no other man would ever try to claim that mouth.
“Um…” Iris sways in my arms a little. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Shit.I hoist her into my arms and double-time toward the bathroom door. Women shriek as I kick it in and stride inside, searching for an empty stall.
“The fuck are you doing here, dude?” one of them shouts while another calls for security.
I ignore all their racket, getting Iris to the toilet just in time for her to empty her guts. Once she stops heaving, I move her to the counter and wash her face, her mouth. By the time I’m done, she’s completely slumped against me. Before we reach my car in the lot, she’s dozing on my shoulder.
My chest fills with warmth while I have her in my arms, and I instantly know I’ve made a terrible error. One I’m not certain I can fix.
I never should have kissed her.
Never should have held her.
I should not feel this—
I should not feel.
Carefully, I lower Little Iris into the passenger seat and secure her seat belt. She’s out. Asleep and completely vulnerable in my car. Defenseless.
Kinda how I felt kissing her.
I kissed her.
I don’t kiss.
Never saw the point.
Kissing belongs to people who embrace the soft things in life. Who value attachment. Who lie to themselves.
Weak people.
I’m not one of them. But kissing Iris shattered my discipline. Made me behave unlike myself.
