Page 53 of Seeley


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That was exactly what was on my mind in the middle of the night before the morning I would need to leave for college.

It all just welled up.

In my heart.

In my eyes.

And I had to beg.

Just one last time.

Risking the inevitable rejection one last time.

Which was exactly what I got.

And then, I don’t know, I just lost it. All the control I’d had up until that point.

I called him.

And then, well, he turned to me. Looking like he looked. Making my heart melt like it was doing all the time lately.

I just couldn’t fight it anymore.

I walked toward him, reaching up to grab his face, going up on my tiptoes, and sealing my lips to his.

For one horrifying moment, Seeley was completely still, his body ramrod straight, his lips firm lines under mine, unresponsive.

I was ready to retreat in complete and utter mortification when something seemed to snap within him as well.

His arms went around me, hauling me against him, and holding me so tightly there that I could barely breathe as his lips took over, crushing into mine.

And I just… melted.

Into him.

Into the sensations growing inside of me.

Into the knowledge that it wasn’t just one-sided, that Seeley felt things too.

His tongue moved inside to claim mine, dragging a ragged little moan out of me.

His lips ripped from mine, his forehead pressing to mine, “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was changed, different from any way I’d ever heard it before. Rough and deep and desperate.

“I can’t,” I told him as my hands framed his face, pulling his lips back to mine.

All of his control snapped then.

His hands slid down my back, sinking into my ass, then using it to pull me up off my feet as he turned, walking me backward to drop me on the counter in the kitchen.

He pressed between my thighs as my legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, until he was flush against me, and I could feel his hardness against the juncture of my thighs.

My hands were greedy, moving over him, sliding up under his shirt to run my fingers over his skin.

And it was different, somehow, than other times I’d touched him. Like when I’d forced him to stand still so I could put sunscreen on his back so he didn’t end up burnt.

When my hands pulled at his tee, he pulled back to yank it off, then his hands were going for my shirt, drawing it up and over my head, his heated gaze sliding over my simple black bra.

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