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“It w-wouldn’t be right, Lyla. You d-deserve m-m-more.”
“I think it could be very right,” she counters, bringing her face closer to mine.
“Sunflower,” I breathe, dragging her scent into my lungs. A fine tremor runs through my body—a mixture of desire and regret.
“Do you ever wonder, Thomas?” she asks, and our gazes lock in on one another, and I swallow as I watch the tip of her tongue dart out to moisten her lips. “Don’t you?”
“What?” I question, completely lost in the emotion on her face, the need in her eyes, and the feeling of warmth at having her so close.
How fucking good it feels.
“Don’t you ever imagine what it would be like if we took that next step?”
“Lyla,” I groan, trying to keep my head clear, but it’s impossible. I’ve had too much to drink, and I’m a selfish prick that wants to get lost in her sweet body.
I want to forget that I’ve been played for a fool. It doesn’t help that it feels as if I’ve been treated as less than a man by my brother—the man I trusted above all others. Dom not only lied to me but it’s clear that he thinks I’m weak—all because of my speech.
I try one more time to push her away, to be a better man…
“We shouldn’t, Lyla. You deserve b-b-better.”
“I want you,” she counters, her mouth so close to mine that I can feel her warm breath fan against my lips. Then, those same luscious, bubble gum pink lips are pressed against mine, and I cave.
Like a siren, she lures me in, promising me an escape, if only for a while. And even if it makes me weak, I give in to the need to lose myself.
Chapter 24
Lyla
“We shouldn’t,” Thomas murmurs in between breaths. His tongue glides against mine, and his kiss is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It feels hungry, possessive, and full of this electric intensity that just might burn me.
The taste of him is masculine and spicy. My hands dive under his shirt, the pads of my fingers tracing over the indentations of his abs, memorizing the hard feel of his muscles and heated, smooth skin. His hold against my neck is powerful as he angles my head in exactly the way he wants me, in complete control of our kiss. His other hand is tangled in my hair, pulling on the strands enough that it feels like tiny fissures of electricity are released and charge my entire body. I hum as he kisses along my neck, his teeth scraping against the tender skin.
“Thomas,” I moan. “I want you.”
“Lyla…” His tortured voice and the confusion on his beautiful face emboldens me. I reach down between us and press the palm of my hand against the hard, rigid outline of his cock that is pushing against his jeans. Even through the stiff denim, the pulsating heat coming from him is intense.
“I want you,” I repeat. I know that Thomas is trying to go slow with me. Maybe he realizes I’m a virgin. I don’t know, but I need him to understand that I don’t have any fears when it comes to him. I want Thomas. I trust him.
He pulls back to look into my eyes, and I don’t look away. I want him to see the need I have for him—the hunger.
He maneuvers us off the couch, then picks me up. I laugh, startled because I’ve never had a man pick me up like that before.
“I love your s-smile, Sunflower.”
“You make me smile,” I whisper back inanely. His eyes go soft, their dark color looking like liquid, and he kisses me again. I’m breathless by the time we make it to his bedroom.
“You see me,” he says. “I d-don’t think anyone ever has.”
“Then, that’s their loss, Thomas,” I murmur, stretching up to touch our lips together. He deepens the kiss, his tongue thrusting inside caressing mine. It feels like heaven. My eyes close, as I hear his hungry moan of pleasure and swallow it down as he possesses my mouth.
We make it clumsily to his bed, falling onto the mattress while we’re kissing. That’s when we break apart. He’s smiling down at me, his eyes twinkling. I use my hands to tunnel under his shirt, the heat of his body branding my fingers as I greedily lift it from his body. He helps me. Once he’s free, his lips come back to mine, and he plunders my mouth as I awkwardly help him undo the buttons of my blouse. We’re both too lost in our hunger, not wanting to stop kissing. Then again, it’s unlike anything I knew possible. He kisses me in a way that brands me. It makes anything that came before it pale in comparison.
When we manage to get my shirt off, I reach down between us. I wrap my fingers around Thomas’s belt and fumble with the buckle. He pulls back to look down at me.
