The smirk is back, and something inside my chest tightens because I could get addicted to it. “Would you believe it was written in the stars? From wherever I was in the world, I’d look at the midnight sky and your name would call to me.”
When I shake my head, our lips touch.
“Is that so?” I ask, and gasp when he shifts under me so his dick rubs along the seam of my shorts, sending my clit into a hard throb. Talk about a pulse point. I rock on him so it happens again, and I groan.
“I’m done talking about Faith,” I say, because I am. I don’t want to think about the past or the future; my focus is on tonight. He loosens his hold on my hands and they land in his hair. “What is it you want from me?”
“I want to make you scream my name,” he says, and I feel him grow beneath me. That’s not going to be a problem.
I grind down and the throb takes on a life of its own. It’s been so long since a man has touched me; I’m not ashamed to ask for what I want. And I want it all. Soft and hard, slow and fast. “Make me come, Kyle.”
Chapter Five
Kyle
“Tell me what you want.”
To my surprise she says, “Kiss me slow.”
And that’s it, the only thing I need to hear. Rolling so she’s beneath me, I grind my cock into her pussy and swallow my groan. She feels more than amazing. I get the idea she likes it, too, when her eyes flare and then narrow as lust blurs black into brown. The pulse in her neck fascinates me as it pounds with the fast rise and fall of her chest. She touches my cheek, feathering her fingers over my mouth. “I want this all over me.”
Our lips part in unison when I roll against her again. Like there’s too much to say, and not enough time to fit all of it in. So I start with, “Life’s full of stops and starts. We're about to start something between us—you with me?”
Drawing her bottom lip into her mouth, she sucks on it. Fuck, I need this girl. At this moment, I don’t care that I’m leaving in ten hours, or that I’ll probably never see her again, and if I did, I’d more than likely fuck up whatever was between us and she’d end up hating me. None of it matters because right now, with her under me, a flush crawling up her chest, I want her as I’ve never wanted any other woman before.
Finally nodding, her lip pops free and I’m on it. I want to devour, but I take small bites instead, slow and steady, alternating between her top and bottom, nip, suck, and pull. Moving into a slow glide of my mouth against hers, she opens for me in an invitation and I accept. This kiss is me challenging her to let me in, let me be with you and make you feel more in one night than you have in the last two years. When I pull back, her lips are swollen and her eyes are soft. My gut clenches and I kiss her again, long and hard.
We’re tangled up, tongues, hands, arms and legs. It’s almost too much; the urge to rip away the barriers and pound into her tight, willing body is crushing. I want to hear her scream my name, but I promised slow, and I don’t break my promises.
Everything about her, about this, is overwhelming. The low moans that I take in and reciprocate with my own, the sweet taste of her mouth, warm honeyed vanilla, and her body pressed into mine.
Concentrating on her hands, I follow them along my back, pulling up and then raking under my T-shirt. She digs into my obliques and holds on. Sweet Jesus, she hasn’t a clue what she does to me. Or maybe she does, and it’s a game—she’s toying with me until I break.
Game on. Deeper, my tongue slides into her mouth with the intent to devastate, crush and pummel her senses until she can only think of me. My mouth, my body, my everything, and anything she wants. I’ll give it to her.
I don’t let up, licking her lips and then diving deeper, moving to shallow rubs and light nips and back again. Her heart rate is high and it matches mine. I can feel it, her breath coming in panting waves, and the vibration of her moan. God, I’m harder than I’ve ever been. I want my cock inside of her more than life itself, but I keep going. This is for Faith. I want my name in her heart, living and breathing there with every breath she takes.
Her hips begin tiny fragmented movement to find friction. Fuck, if I can’t not touch her. I have too.
“Kyle,” she moans into my mouth, a sound so sweet it could only come from her.
“Faith?” I ask, wanting, no, needing to hear her beg for it.
It’s her turn to stare. Her glazed eyes roam every inch of my face and neck only to slide back up to my hair, which she grabs to hold me still. “Touch me,” she whispers, moving her hips into mine. “Please.”
“Where?”
“Here.” She moves her hips again and I smile before taking her mouth, slowly at first, then faster and deeper as my hand strokes over her chest. There’ll be time to play with her tits later; right now I’ve been given a directive, and I aim to please.
I watch her as my hand grazes against the outside of her thigh, following the ridge of her shorts to stroke the smooth skin below her pussy. It’s impossible to remain calm—it’s her fault, all her fucking fault. If she weren’t so amazing I could slow down, but I need to feel her wet and tight around me. Gripping her hip, I pull, grinding my dick into the tight press of her thighs and she groans. Music to my ears.
“Let me hear you.” I roll into her again and again until she’s panting and I’m afraid I’ll explode like a virgin on a first date.
“I want you to touch me,” she whispers, guiding my hand to exactly where she wants it and it’s my turn to groan. I love that she’s open and willing to ask for what she needs.
“Reading my mind,” I whisper, before kissing her. Holding back nothing, I punish her mouth. The kiss is hard and deep, while my hand works over the button and zipper of her shorts. Pulling away, I gaze into her dazed eyes and over her flushed face to her flat stomach.
We both watch my fingers slip down the front of her shorts and the flash of lace beneath them. Her skin is silk, luxurious, and meant for the richest of men—meant for me. “Fuuuck, Faith.” I drop my head to her hair as my finger slides along the wet sheath of her lips. “God, you’re perfect.”
Faith
I’ve lost my mind. In a good, mind-numbing way. Kyle knows how to kiss until all thought is erased. I’m wild for him, unthinking I ask him to touch me, and I mean it. I would beg if he asked me to. When his hand reaches below my panties, reality suddenly returns. Damn it all, I’m on a beach with his hand in my pants, ready to give him anything he asks for. Tensing beneath him, my eyes round and I push against his shoulder.
“Relax,” he whispers in my ear. “You can let go with me. I’ll always catch you.” There’s a sexy sway to his voice, and then his fingers, two of them, slip into me and I’m lost.
“Fuck, Angel. You’re so wet and tight . . . I want my mouth on you.”
I hum, because I can’t speak. I’d let him do anything he wanted because he feels that good. Letting go to feeling, I take in everything: his body pressed against mine as I rock into his hand. He sinks deeper, cupping me so his palm rubs against my clit. “Oh,” I half-cry, half-moan. “Kyle.”
I search for his mouth, and it’s there just when I need it most. Covering my lips with his, he takes every panted breath and mumbled word into him. More, deeper, faster, harder, please and then repeated until I can’t breathe. My hands seek out his wrist, holding him, showing him the way, pulling him further into me, rubbing and plunging deeper, over and over.
“Yes, oh fuck, Faith. I want to see you come. I want to feel it.”
Our mouths hover together, barely touching as his words wash over me. Kyle, brand new, yet we fit so well, as if we’ve been molded together over time. There’s no shame in my actions—what he’s doing to me, with me. I’ve given myself, and this night to him freely, and I let him take me to a place I’ve never visited before. Not like this; never with this complete wild abandon. In a moment I’ve let go of fear and worry, thoughts of tomorrow fade to nothing. It’s just me and Kyle, and to hell with everything else.