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Lindy wordlessly points behind her, wraps her arms around my neck, and kisses me so hard that she sucks up all the little oxygen I have left, all the oxygen in the room, and probably all the oxygen in the world.
But it’s totally okay. Because if this is the way I have to go out, with the perfect lips of my perfect cursed soulmate on mine, her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms locked around my neck, and her body pressed firmly to me, I’m okay with that.
CHAPTER 14
Lindy
I kiss Kirian as if my life depends on it as he steers us down the hall and into the bedroom. The moment he shuts the door hard, I scramble down and rush around the room like a madwoman, searching the closet with the sagging wood doors that no longer close, checking under the nightstand, and under the second-hand dresser with the broken bottom drawer where all the cats like to hide because it’s a tiny glorious space, and tiny glorious spaces are perfect and one-of-a-kind for cats. When I’m done checking those, I get down on my knees and check under the bed.
Then, I stand up slowly, pulling down my dress and rubbing my clammy palms on the fabric. “We’re all clear.”
I also know there are two ancient condoms in the drawer of the nightstand. I mean, they’re old, but they’re not expired because I checked them before Kirian got here. Yes, I checked because I want this. I’m not afraid, and I’m not up in my head. Right now, it’s just him and me, and I’m going to keep it that way.
I’m entirely fixated on that thought, but then Kirian starts undoing buttons on his shirt, and oh my extra spicy meatballs with an extra side of GAH. I’m utterly entranced now because his chest is a chest of wonders, and his muscles flex, twitch, and bunch with every single button. His arms flex hard just to get those little buttons through their holes, and I’m treated to a show of wonders. Did I mention Kirian’s chest should be in a chests hall of fame or the muscle museum? And that it should win multiple awards, sweeping all categories, and be crowned the chest of champions?
Kirian finally gets his shirt off, and I know I’m staring, but I can’t stop. I. Can’t. Stop. There might even be a line of drool forming at the corner of my mouth. Because seriously, is this mine? Kirian really wants this with me? He wants to press his chest of wonders against my chest? He wants to…oh god, my knees are shaking.
He hasn’t even taken off his pants yet, and I’m already aching so badly that my nipples are back to being titanium level hard while my whole body feels raw. All the breaths I’m taking are primal, like a wild animal, and my pussy is aching so badly that I can barely take any of the aforementioned primal breaths at all. I want this. My god, I want this. I want Kirian.
Just him and me. Just him and me. Just him and me. I repeat like a mantra. Right now. Just us. Right here. Right in this moment.
It’s hard to stay locked in the present, especially when he starts to unbuckle his belt. I rush forward, setting a record for speed, and let my hands drop there, down to his belt.
“Can I?” Taking his pants off would be the most remarkably sexy thing I could ever see myself doing. And I seriously want to do it. I want to get him fully naked. I want to touch him, and I want him to touch me. I also want to grab his bottom.
Too far? No, most definitely not.
His bottom is so grab-worthy that it’s not even funny.
It’s probably lick-worthy too.
Too far this time?
Maybe. But who cares.
My hands are like big lumps of jelly, but somehow, I get Kirian’s belt undone. Then, I get his pants undone and the zipper down. I push them down as he kicks off his shoes, and finally, they’re off—the first hurdle over. Yes, pants are most absolutely a hurdle. At least right now.
He’s wearing a pair of regular underwear, black again, and I slide my hands under the waistband. They’re tighter than the pants, so I have to tug a little, but eventually, I get them peeled away too. Then it’s just Kirian and me, and he’s naked. Just his bottom of wonders and socks, which I notice when my eyes trail down. They’re black with tiny white dots on them—male dress socks. They’re quite fancy, and seeing as he’s just standing there wearing them and nothing else, I find a laugh bubbling up in my throat, one I can barely bite back.
Once Kirian realizes what I’m laughing at, he bends and peels his socks off. And then it’s just him. Fully naked. Utterly, wonderfully, adorably, and muscly naked.
