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"Yes. I know what it means. I've read books. Fiction. And non-fiction. And I... it's all I've thought about."
It doesn't make sense. The Kaylee in my head is sweet. Soft. Innocent. This—this is dirty, depraved, fucked up shit.
But Kay isn't the sweet girl in my head.
She's a woman.
With desires. With demands.
That's what I want for her.
And this is certainly what I want for me.
"This is it, Kay. If you want to back out, you need to do it now. 'Cause once I start, I won't be able to stop myself." I cup the back of her head with my palm. "I haven't slept right in weeks. All I can think about is the taste of your lips. What you look like when you come—"
"You haven't seen—"
"But I imagine it every fucking night." I slide my hand over her hip. "I think about you coming on my hand. On my lips. On my cock."
"Brendon." She tugs at my t-shirt. Presses her palm against my stomach. Her eyes meet mine. She nods. Yes.
I study her expression as I shift my hips against hers.
Those green eyes are hazy with lust.
She's ready to let go.
To make me the center of her universe.
Kaylee trusts me. I need every fucking ounce of that trust. I need every fucking ounce of her.
Fuck, this is Kay, the sweet girl who mocks my love of action movies.
Who can't cook to save her life.
Who looks at me like I hang the moon.
And she's about to be mine.
My blood is pumping. My heart is pounding. My body is buzzing with the kind of energy that comes with getting new ink.
I bring one hand to her ass and pull her body against mine. So I can feel every soft inch of her.
She rises to her tiptoes.
Closes her eyes.
Presses her lips to mine.
It's different than our last kiss.
Softer. Deeper. More.
She's pouring into me.
And I'm pouring into her.
There's need and affection and months of unsaid shit pouring between us. Filling me from head to toe.
