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Her tongue sinks into my mouth, meets mine, and that’s it—the world around vanishes.
Callie is mine.
At least for this moment as our mouths fuse in this kiss.
I won’t let her get away this time. She thought I was a monster. She blamed me for something I didn’t do. If it’s my fault, I will fix it.
The rain rams against the roof. But the sound goes away as I get lost in the kiss.
My hands slide up her torso. Slowly. Carefully. Inching up. Until they reach her arms still holding her bikini top. But they give way under the pressure of my hands sliding up. And in a moment, I cup her breasts.
Fuck…
I buck my hips against her. My hard cock in my shorts is pressing against her back and wants so desperately to break free and make acquaintance with her.
I squeeze her breasts gently, and she moans.
Callie Mays moans in my arms.
I fucking dissipate at the sound, deepening my kiss.
I am like a dinghy caught in a powerful tide. Capsizing. Being swallowed by the warm water. Drowning.
I sink my tongue deeper into her sweet mouth, and she moans again. There is no doubt she wants me.
Fuck yes!
I try to be gentle, though I want to throw her onto my bed and fuck her.
We kiss for the longest time while I knead her breasts and stroke her nipples with my thumbs. Her hands slide up to cover mine, and it’s as if we are pleasuring her together.
I finally pull my mouth away from hers, just an inch apart.
“Petal,” I whisper. “Have you ever been touched?”
If what Katura said is true, Callie hasn’t been with anyone.
Her breath is warm and jagged, and I love it. She smells like the waterfall and rain and coconut oil. It’s hot in the hut. I want to rip the rest of her clothes off and mine, too. Right now, I want her hands on me, and I hate being touched.
“Touched how?” she asks.
“I guess it’s a no,” I say, my heart fluttering at the answer.
No guy has touched her.
Good.
Because I would have burned with jealousy.
“I want to touch you,” I whisper. Just a touch. I don’t want to go farther where she doesn’t want to be. “Do you trust me?”
And that’s a heavy word, considering some pretty fucked-up things she thought about me.
“Yes,” she whispers.
That’s all I need.
Slowly, I turn her around to face me. Our foreheads are almost touching, and it feels intimate.
