“Mmm,” he moans again before lifting me up into his arms. “And I can have pasta on demand.”
I shriek with laughter when he dumps me on the bed. “Is that all I’m good for? Pasta?”
I scramble away from him when he gets a wicked glint in his eyes.
I know what’s coming. “Kai,” I say in a warning tone, lifting my hand as I try to plan my escape. The room is small, but if I can get to the bathroom, I could lock myself in…
“Yes, Isabelle?” he replies, his smirk only growing. “Is everything okay?”
“No!” I shriek as he lunges forward, his fingers grazing my side as I try to dart off the bed toward the bathroom. I don’t even make it off the mattress before Kai lands on top of me, ignoring my cries of protest, even the kicks I try to aim toward his shins. Instead, he shifts to pin me down with his legs and tickles me.
“Noooo! Stop! Oh my God!” I shriek in between laughs, but he’s relentless. I know there’s only one thing that will make him stop. Our safe word from long-ago tickle fights. “Balk! Balk!”
His hands lift from my body at that word. “Don’t curse me with illegal pitches, woman.”
Once I’ve caught my breath, I scramble away from him. “No more tickling and I won’t.”
He grins down at me, placing one hand on the pillows beside me and dipping his head down to kiss me. “Deal.”
We stay like that, two fools smiling at each other, kissing each other, for a minute or two. I wonder if he’s remembering all the times we did the same thing, chasing each other around our dorms, laughing and being goofy together. Of course, back then, the tickling inevitably lead to…other things.
As if he remembers that at the exact same second I do, Kai’s eyes narrow with a sensual intensity that threatens to take my breath away, even more so than being tickled.
“Isabelle.”
That’s all he says. My name. And then our clothes are flying. He’s naked first, and I’ve managed to get my shorts and underwear off. When I go to lift my Yamaki jersey off, he stops me.
“Don’t. Leave that on.”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips, but I nod. His gaze never leaves my face as he reaches his hands around behind me, under the jersey, and makes quick work of removing my bra, sliding it through the sleeves. He tweaks my nipples with a devious smirk before removing his hands and bringing them up to cup my face.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs before kissing me again, slowly and sweetly this time. Reverently.
“You’re just saying that because I’m wearing your jersey,” I try to tease, but it comes out a lot more needy and breathy than I planned.
His chuckle is low and promises wicked things. “You wearing my name is sexy as fuck, Iz. And if I have my way, you’ll wear it for the rest of our lives. But no. You’re gorgeous, with or without my jersey.”
I can feel my entire body heat with a blush at his words. “Kiss me,” I whisper, lacing my fingers around his neck and tugging him down with me. He lowers to his elbows and does as I’ve asked, kissing me deeply, tongues tangling and teasing.
His lips start to travel, grazing lightly over my jaw, and down my neck. He skims his hands down my body to the bottom of my jersey before pushing it up. My eyes close as my back arches into his touch. Lips, fingers, tongue, he uses it all to torment me until I’m writhing under his touch. He moves down my body agonizingly slow. It’s killing me, taking all my strength not to beg him to go where I desperately want him.
But above all, I trust Kai to take care of me. He may tease, he may drag out my pleasure until I’m certain I can’t take it any longer, but I can. I trust him to know exactly what I need.
Which is why, when his hand slips under my back, one finger trailing along the seam where my thighs meet my ass, I don’t flinch.
“Some day.” He presses a kiss just below my belly button as that finger drags closer to the part of me I’ve never considered letting anyone near. “Some day, I want all of you. I want this perfect, juicy ass, Isabelle. Will you let me?”
He punctuates the question by grabbing my ass in his large palm, squeezing hard enough I’m certain I’ll have fingerprint bruises there tomorrow.
“Yes,” I gasp as his tongue dives into my pussy. I’d let him do anything to me.
He groans against my clit, the sound reverberating through me as he devours me like a man starved. “Fucking love this pussy. Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I want to hear every word he says but there’s a roaring in my ears as my orgasm builds under his relentless attack. He bands his arm over my hips to hold me in place, but that only does so much to stop my hips from moving, seeking more, more, more.
My thighs must be crushing his head but he doesn’t let up until I’m convulsing under him, crying out so loudly, the people in the rooms next to us must know exactly what’s going on. But I don’t care.
I don’t care about anything but the man between my legs and the magical things he’s doing to my body.
