I push my tongue inside her. She tastes like a woman and sweetness, dream and desires. Like…celebration. It feels like I’ve been racing all my life to reach Klein. She’s hot under my mouth, almost feverish. Her hands grip the edge of the counter for balance. I slide mine over until I’m covering them.
Her fingers flex under mine. She deepens the kiss, going up on her toes as she invades my mouth with her tongue, running it along mine. A soft moan tears from her throat, as though she relishes being caged by me, enveloped by my heat and taste.
I plunder her mouth. I can’t seem to get enough of her. The shallowing of her breathing makes me want to grind mythrobbing dick against her. Or maybe put my thigh between her legs and let her ride me. My head says I should seize the chance. Show her what I can do to her. But the decent part of me steps on the brakes.
Underneath the intoxicating taste ofAileeis champagne. She must’ve drunk some when Lareina and Fiona visited. Fiona can’t drink, but Lareina can, and she loves to indulge when she can. Not sure exactly how much Klein had, but I don’t want to take advantage if there’s a chance she’s still tipsy.
When we cross that line—when she’s naked and begging me to fill her aching emptiness—she’ll be sober. There won’t be any alcohol to blame for her lack of inhibition or self-control. It’ll be driven only by how good I’m making her feel and how desperately she wants the pleasure only I can give her.
With an almost inhuman effort, I manage to tear my lips from hers.Fuck. They’re so swollen, rosy and wet. She licks them, as though to savor the remnants of our connection. Disappointment darkens her eyes, and her eyebrows pull together. “What… Why?”
“You’re intoxicated, Klein.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You had drinks with Lareina.”
“Yes. But not that much.”
She sounds sober, but her eyes have trouble focusing. My lips twitch at how badly she lies. “We’ll try again when you haven’t had any alcohol.”
She pouts. “What if I’m not in the mood next time?”
I laugh, then run a finger along the bridge of her nose. “It’ll be my job to make sure you are.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ailee
Josh loves the yakisoba I made. I have no idea what it tastes like, though. It’s like chewing on cardboard-box pasta. My entire focus is on the kiss. Even when he says something, I just nod and smile.
Now that I’m in the soft bed in my own room and blinking up at the ceiling in the dark, I have no clue who cleaned up after dinner. I’m still in Josh’s dress shirt because he didn’t ask for it back. I think he even said I should keep it and wear it as a nightshirt. That it looked great on me. But I’m not one hundred percent certain—my brain quit after the kiss.
I’ve always known Josh was intense and hot, but I never knew justhowintense and hot he could be, or what it was like to be on the receiving end of his focused attention. Up to today, kissing a guy was pleasant enough. Our lips met, the tongues got engaged, and then, if the mood was right and everything was going okay, we’d go further.
I probably should’ve pushed Josh away when he said he wanted to kiss me. Part of me said it’d be the smart thing to do, but the other part—the one with a curiosity intense enough to end every single life of a whole truckload of cats—wanted to know what it would be like to feel his mouth on mine. I’d seen all those gorgeous women on his arm, but never seen a single photo of him kissing any, even though I’m sure he did. Being the focusof his molten eyes made me unable to turn away because the fire they held heated my core.
Just the mere brush of his lips sent an electric jolt through my spine. For a moment, I thought I might just come, it wasthatpotent.
The feel of his tongue in my mouth was so carnallypenetrating, my knees almost buckled. Every time he ran his tongue over mine, my clit throbbed like he was down there instead. And for the first time in my life, I actuallywantedto be ravished by a mouth.
My face flames, and I cover my overheated cheeks. Oral sex isn’tawful, but I’ve never particularly enjoyed it. It’s awkward, for one. Sometimes I lie there and wonder if I smell and taste okay, and then I feel like I should hurry up and climax because the guy’s trying and he might be let down if I don’t come. Which, ironically, makes it harder to relax and orgasm.
So I never really wanted a man down there…until Josh kissed me.
What the hell, Ailee?!
But every time his tongue stroked against mine, I wanted to feel it on my aching clit. If he didn’t want to touch me there with his mouth, he could’ve just used his fingers. I would’ve loved that, too. And I would’ve held his dick, which I could tell was hard even though he didn’t do anything overt like pressing it against me. But I wanted him to.
I flip over and press my hips against the mattress. God, I’m so wet. I squeeze my thighs together to ease the pressure, but it’s no use. I need Josh.
I whisper his name in the dark. Just saying it brings back the memory, and my body reacts, like his mouth is still fused to mine. My panties are soaked through, and I take them off and discreetly drop them next to the bed.
I slip my hand between my legs and touch the slickness there. The pressure in my clit eases a little, but I can’t seem to stimulate it enough. I cup my breast, tease my nipple. I undulate my hips. Increase the tempo of my fingers rubbing the clit.
The orgasm comes and pops, then fizzles like a badly stored soda. I bury my face in the pillow and groan, suddenly feeling ridiculous and out of control. I’ve never just masturbated to a man before. If I’m in the mood, I might do it to a really spicy romance scene, but…
Hopefully, the memory of what I did tonight doesn’t come back to haunt me when I face Josh tomorrow.It’s really because I said his name.Just that alone makes him feel more real—more personal.
