Page 138 of Lost & Found

Focus on something different.

The dance earlier. That was safe. I’d nailed the moves. Kinsley would be ecstatic. Maybe she would take me on as a student. Teach me some more of those sensual moves she did. It couldn’t hurt. Right?

Who are you kidding?

It wasn’t like I needed more dance instruction. What the hell would I do with the experience anyway? It wasn’t like I was suddenly interested in going clubbing. The only club I knew was my brother’s. And he was the last person I wanted to think about. Especially while lying next to Pasha.

He shifted behind me and pulled me closer to him. There was something incredibly right about being wrapped in his arms. Cuddling had never interested me before. He made it easy. He made everything easy.

And now I was addicted to him. I closed my eyes and once more tried to match the rhythm of his breathing. Behind my closed lids, a portrait took shape. Me in the rose-colored dress, him in his suit. Our bodies pressed together as we danced.

In vivid colors, we emerged onto my imaginary sketchbook. The tilt of his head. His palm against my spine, guiding me. His brown eyes filled with desire, and the exact moment when his thumb brushed against my jaw. The exact moment he stopped fighting whatever this was.

When he gave in and kissed me. Could I paint that? Maybe when I was back home, I’d lock myself into my studio and give it a go. It was so different from other times. It had been unhurried and light. He savored me, teased me. Anytime our lips connected, it just felt…right.

Almost as if his lips were made just for me.

His surrender was always the same. A low growl, followed by a soft curse. Every single time we kissed, he would do that. It was an invisible barrier, his tell that he was going to fall. And every time it blurred the lines between fake and real.

Now that I was fully committed to my line of thinking, it only made sense to sink into what his kisses did to me. The minute his tongue slid between my parted lips, electrical currents raced through my body. Every time.

Without thinking, I nestled back against him, letting his warmth comfort me. The lines of his cock pressed into my ass. I wanted to roll over and touch him. I craved this man on levels I never thought I would.

It was pathetic and desperate, but deep down, I knew he felt the same. I wasn’t stupid. I knew he wanted me, but he wouldn’t make that move. His control was so much better than mine.

I hated that.

Was it wrong of me to want him to just lose it with me? A deep-seated, unwelcome need for him consumed me. The temptation was impossible to ignore. I carefully rolled over to face him, and he naturally rolled onto his back. Unable to help myself, I reached out and touched one of the inked lines on his chest.

Dancing had already given him a strong, powerful body, but over the last year, he’d grown broader and more chiseled as he worked out with the guys. His chestnut hair hung low over his forehead, and his beautiful eyes were framed by ridiculously, thick lashes.

He opted to sleep in his gray sweats tonight. I think he did it on purpose—he was bare under. I could tell by the way they hung off him and the outline of his cock. Even when not erect, it was impressive. I could only imagine what it might look like—feel like.

Tired of wondering and with no fucks to give, I trailed my fingers further down his chest to his abs, exploring the grooves and dips of his skin. If he woke up, I’d blame it on sleep deprivation. The muscles of his lower abs tightened subtly beneath my touch.

And then—because apparently since my survival instincts matched my fucks—my hand dipped lower. The firm edge of muscle gave way to cotton as the tips of my fingers brushed the waistband of his sweats. My fingers lingered there. It was a line.

A very soft, very tempting line. One my brain crossed before I knew what was happening. I traced the outline of his cock through his sweats. He stirred under the light caresses.

Feel free to take advantage of me anytime, princess.

The words he said the first morning we were here and repeated throughout the trip echoed in my mind. Was he serious? He couldn’t have meant it. Right? What would he do if he woke up? Could I?

It was as if a stranger took over, and my hand slipped under the waistband. Short, neatly-trimmed hair greeted me. I tangled my fingers in it and tugged, testing the water. This time he didn’t move, but sighed deeply. Then—his body reacted.

It was involuntary, a basic biological function, but damn it did something to me. Arousal pooled between my thighs. Coming to my senses, I yanked my hand out of his sweats, feeling a heated rush of embarrassment.

He groaned in his sleep and pulled me further into him. In a fit of madness, taking this as some sort of sign from the universe, I threw one leg over his thigh and ground my hips against it. Then with the slightest shift, I was straddling him, and his cock was between my legs, thrusting against my covered pussy.

I rolled my hips and was soon consumed by the feel of rubbing my clit against him. I didn’t notice that his sweats had slipped. I was soaked, and my satin knickers slid easily across him.

“Oh…” I moaned, feeling frustrated.

I wanted to feel his flesh against me completely. On the next pass, I pushed my knickers down and angled my pussy.

You should stop. This is so wrong.

But then my clit made contact with the shaft of his cock, and the electric heat of his flesh made me crazy with want. I rocked some more, and on the next pass down, he sprang free from his sweats.