Page 83 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

I repeated that line in my head. But it was no use.

I knew it the second his lips moved against mine—addictive in a way that made my whole body burn up.

Guilt flickered somewhere in the background… and annoyance too. But this time, it wasn’t at him. It was at myself, because I let this happen. I let him bring me here. I let myself follow.

Then Kyle pulled back just enough to look at me. His breath uneven. Eyes darker than before.

And then he guided me, slowly and deliberately, until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed.

I fell onto it, barely catching myself, my chest rising and falling as I looked up at him.

And for a second, I just watched.

Because there was something about him like this.

Unfiltered. Unapologetic.

Devilish.

I swallowed.

Then I reached for the waistband of my pants, pushing them down like I didn’t have the patience to do it properly, kicking them off somewhere across the room.

And when there was nothing left below me, I glared at Kyle and spread my legs for him to see all of my glory.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

That alone sent heat straight through me.

He followed, quick and careless, like whatever control he had left wasn’t worth holding onto anymore.

And when there’s nothing left below him, I stared at the cock that was once mine.

The cock that shamed all of the others.

The biggest cock I had ever taken.

“Fuck,” I said under my breath.

Then he slowly crawled up on me, hovering like a predator above his prey.

His hands braced on either side as his mouth found mine again.

Slower this time.

Deeper.

His lips moved down—jaw, neck—lingering just long enough to make me feel it everywhere.

My breath caught.

And before I could stop it—before I could remind myself why I shouldn’t be here—he straightened, scraping his tongue and then touched my inner thigh. Then slowly, he traced downward, until he found the spot where the glory of all power-bottoms lay.

I felt it.

“Holy fuck!” I said, my head tipping back, as his fingers play the rim of my being.

“Still sensitive,” he murmured, almost to himself.