Page 7 of Take Me Gently


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No, scratch that. He kisses me as if he was starving for it his whole life.

He grabs my waist and presses me to the wall, gently as if trying not to hurt me. He then takes my ass into his hands and lifts me up, helping me wrap my legs around his waist.

I feel his hard dick against my center, and it bounces inside of his pants when my pussy touches it.

He still holds me with one hand while the other travels to my neck, grabbing it from behind as his tongue enters my throat.

I moan involuntarily, and his dick jumps one more time. I dig my fingers into his dark thick hair and grab them harshly as if trying not to fall.

This kiss is not a hate-kiss, not the kind I imagined while I was changing in the bathroom. It's not like he wants to punish me or to scare me. He kisses me as if his life depends on it, brushing his lips tenderly but hungrily at the same time, pulling away slightly, and then penetrating my mouth again, deeper each time.

I squeeze my legs harder, trying to move to increase the friction. Still, it's almost impossible when I'm practically hanging in the air.

No one has ever kissed me like this before, not even Liam. This kiss is like thunder on a sunny day, unexpected but mesmerizing. He kisses me as if I'm the sexiest, most desirable woman in the world.

When he pulls away, I cry out, displeased, unable to believe what just happened.

"You have to go," he whispers, gasping for air but still holding me so tightly as if he doesn't really want me to go.

"I don't want to," I say, unable to believe my own words.

I have to run away as fast as possible. This man is dangerous, I can feel that. But at the same time, he is the most attractive man I've ever seen, who's kissing me as if we were the last people on Earth.

This man is exactly what I need for my birthday, for my first time, for my revenge on Liam.

Fuck Liam. I don't even care about him anymore. I just want this nameless man who's sucking me in as if he can't live without me.

"Why are you here, lamb?" he whispers again, brushing his nose over mine. It's so intimate, it feels so sincere, that I almost melt in his arms. "Why did an innocent creature like you come into an underworld like this one?"

We look into each other's eyes, our foreheads pressed against each other. His thumb strokes my cheek as he breathes into my mouth, fighting himself not to start kissing again.

"My boyfriend cheated on me, and I need revenge," I confess, for some reason unable to lie to him.

"So it's revenge passion?" he asks, and I see a slight disappointment in his eyes, although he tries to sound at ease.

This passion wasn't created out of hate. Nobody can make up a real passion; it happens between people or it doesn’t.

Gosh, I don't even know his name.

"What's your name?" I ask, trying to change the subject, trying to return the person he was a minute ago: a starving predator who was willing to take me right in the hallway.

"Let's not exchange names, lamb." He smiles slightly, looking at my lips and licking his own at the same time. "It's better for you not to know me at all."

"Okay," I whisper back, a little offended as if he just told me I'm not his type.

He doesn't want to see me after tonight. I get it. I don't want to see him again either, right? Why would I want that? He's arrogant, wild, and rude. I wouldn't want to date a guy like this, not in a million years. This passion between us is temporary, simply because we started fighting and wanted to punish each other, right?

No, I'm not sure I believe it.

"You have to know that I don't do gentle," he continues, removing hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear, so tenderly that I doubt what he’s saying. "I don't do tender, I don't date. You'll never come here again, and we'll never see each other. I don't do sleepovers, so you won't stay the night. And I like a hard and fast fuck, a mind-blowing type."

He stops for a second, and I take a deep breath to process his words. That's exactly what I wanted for my first time, isn't it? I know it's going to be painful, maybe a lot, but it's going to be that way no matter if it's fast or slow, so isn't it better to make it in one swift motion?

"If you're not ready for that, lamb, then I'll let you go right now and will never bother you again." His words are simple, understandable, even sharp, but the timbre of his voice is like... It seems like it's hard for him to say it, no matter how much he’s trying to sound at ease.

Is it as hard for him to let me go as it is for me to walk away?

"I'm ready," I say before I can change my mind, trying to sound confident no matter how scared I am.

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