We fell on his bed. He put his hands on both sides of my head so he didn’t crush me, then fused our mouths in a lush kiss. I clung to him, my fingers fumbling and pushing his shirt up. He yanked it over his head and tossed it away before kissing me again. His hands skimmed across my dress, his fingers exploring and making my body tingle everywhere. I reached over to the side and pulled the zipper down, so I could get out of the obstructive thing.
He undressed me, pushing the dress down, past my hips, then tugged at my thong and took everything all the way down my legs and let it drop by the bed. His eyes took me in, and for a second, I felt awkward and exposed. Was he disappointed that I didn’t have a perfectly toned body? Clothes cover up a lot of flaws. I wondered if I shouldn’t have eaten or drunk anything at the bar so my belly would look flatter. But then he let out a soft groan like he was looking at the sexiest damned thing in the world and couldn’t bear it, and my reservations melted away faster than a snowflake in Singapore. He unhooked my bra; I shrugged out of it, letting it fall on the floor. Heat flushed my skin, pooling between my legs as his eyes darkened.
“Take off your pants,” I demanded, my breathing uneven. My chest rose and fell, and his gaze went to the tips of my breasts. “Now,” I said before he got even more distracted.
His eyes on me, he disposed of the rest of his clothes and shoes, and then he was on me. His mouth, his tongue, his hands. He kissed me everywhere, touched me everywhere, leaving trails of fire on my body, making me weak and needy and desperate. I clung to him, my legs wrapped around him, as hot streaks of pleasure sizzled through me, leaving me dizzy and wet.
He touched me like he’d die without me, and he devoured my lips like I was the only one who could satisfy his hunger. It made me hot for him. But it wasn’t just lust I was feeling. There was a softer and sweeter edge to everything that made what we were doing more than just a rush to mutually satisfying orgasms.
He massaged one breast, and I arched my back. “More,” I said, panting.
A low, wickedly masculine chuckle tore from his throat as he took my breast into his mouth and sucked. Oh my God. I threaded my fingers through his hair, holding him there. He nipped me, and my pussy clenched so hard that it almost hurt.
“Now, Killian. Inside me now,” I begged, but he merely moved further down, his tongue laving my belly, leaving wet trails along my breasts and below. He was driving me crazy. Why didn’t he want to plunge into me? Any of my exes would’ve done that by now, but not Killian. It was as though he had a destination in mind that would require a different route.
He reached for my hands and linked our fingers. Our palms pressed together and seemed to throb.
My thighs went over his wide shoulders, seemingly of their own accord, and his mouth closed over the flesh between my legs. Holy…! Heat blossomed in my gut, and the ache I’d been feeling since the moment he sang on the stage was more like sharp pain now. I’d felt how hard he was, and he must want to be inside me, but he took his time, bringing me to a climax with his mouth.
I sobbed softly, his name on my lips. I wasn’t used to this kind of tender but hot sex. Or the care and attention he lavished on me, making my heart flutter for reasons that had nothing to do with the orgasm I’d just had. He pushed me again, but it didn’t take much effort for another orgasm to shatter over me, my spine bending, my arms taut, and my fingers tightening between his.
But I wanted more—to feel him inside me. I wanted to be as intimately connected as possible, to see pleasure break over his face as he moved inside me, making both of us feel incredible.
He shifted. I heard something tear, and then he was back, settling between my legs. I cupped his cheeks then pulled his face down for a kiss. His mouth was slick against mine, tasted intimately like me and him.
He drove all the way in with one smooth stroke. I shivered, my moan caught between our lips. He felt so good, so solid, so hot. He was aggressive, slightly out of control, and I loved watching him lose himself in me, pleasure playing over his face, sweat beading on our skin as lust heated our bodies.
“You feel so fucking tight. Shit,” he said between clenched teeth.
I laughed breathlessly. “And you feel huge. I love it.”
He cursed, then thrust faster and more roughly. The added stimulation flung me into another climax, and I came hard around him, my inner muscles spasming. He plunged in and out, his jaw bunched tightly. I put a hand over the tense muscles, then dragged my fingers all the way down to his chest, where his heart raced. I pulled him down to kiss him deeply, to show how much I loved this moment with him…how much I’d like to see him let go. When I came again, his entire body clenched, a shudder going through him as he joined me in orgasm.
I held on to him, waiting for our breathing to even out, our hearts to stop galloping. He kissed me tenderly, his lips on my forehead, the corners of my eyes and the tip of my nose and my chin. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he licked my ear.
Something sweet and languid swelled in my chest, stealing my breath. He said the words like they were the truest thing in the world, and I felt like the most beautiful person on Earth.
“I know,” I said, feeling too happy to be modest or argue. “So are you.”
With a small laugh, he kissed me. “And we’re going to make beautiful love all night long.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Killian
I stretched, still slightly bleary, sleep clinging like cobwebs. It was still early, just a sliver of light coming in between the bedroom curtains. Emily was sleeping, curled up, hugging one of my pillows, her face buried in it.
Should I wake her?
The bedside clock said it wasn’t even eight. And she could use some extra sleep, because I’d kept her up late. We’d used up a lot of condoms. Yeah, no Mr. Ten Minutes here, I thought. Ahh heh heh heh.
I put on a pair of boxers, brushed my teeth and went downstairs to get some water. My mouth felt dry and dehydrated. I made it a habit to have at least two bottles of water after I sang, but last night I’d skipped that. I’d had a more pressing matter, namely, having Emily.
I took a few sips and sighed. It was already almost mid-April. Not even seven weeks remained before I had to go to Dallas, and I didn’t want to leave Emily behind. Would it be too early to ask her to consider coming with me? I hadn’t seen her hang out with anybody or mention any close friends in town. So maybe she’d be okay with it.
On the other hand, what if she had a specific reason for being in Kingstree and couldn’t go to Dallas?
Long distance was an option, but not a great one. We’d be too busy, and I didn’t want to waste time traveling back and forth between Dallas and Kingstree when we could just be in the same city.
And…Emily could write in Dallas just as well as she could in Kingstree, couldn’t she? If the logistics or cost were a problem, I’d pay for all the expenses and arrange for movers. All she’d have to do is grab her laptop. I’d make sure it’d be as easy and seamless as possible.
The door to the house opened with a quiet creak. Mir walked in, still in her dress. Her face was cleaned of makeup, her hair messy and uncombed. Shit, I thought with a small sigh. I was hoping Mir would stay with Yve a little longer. Until lunchtime at least, catching up and doing what best friends did when they had a sleepover.