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A challenge. As if it’s her way of saying,Oh yeah? Show me.
Talia’s lips are the most delightful thing I’ve ever felt, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. I want nothing more than to bury myself in them, and with that growing urge to have more of her, feel more of her, and with the challenge in her kiss, I want to show her just how badly I won’t want to stop once we start.
When her warm fingers wrap around the back of my neck, I lose it. My hands roughly find her waist and I pull her out of the chair and place her on the table, where I fit myself between her legs. A small, pitiful sound—half gasp, half moan—slips from her lips, and I use the opportunity to greet her tongue with my own. Tightening my grip on her waist, I slip my fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, feeling her soft skin on my fingertips for the first time.
It takes every ounce of self-control I havenotto tear her clothes off here, on the patio, to get more of it.
Our tongues dance with each other and I let my hands slide further up her shirt, feeling the soft warmth of her ribs as the tips of my fingers find the edge of her bra. When she drags her nails down the front of my chest, I slip my thumbs underneath the underwire, wanting to feel, wanting tosee,every beautiful inch of her. As if to match my challenge of undressing, her hands slip beneath my shirt and trace the hem of my boxers.
I think I’m going to explode.
I run my hands down her hips and over her ass, gripping the bottoms of her thighs to pull her closer to me, the tantalizing closeness of the warmth between her legs making it impossible to even think clearly anymore. My lips move more urgently against hers, my teeth grazing her bottom lip, when suddenly, she tenses, pulling away.
“Wait…”
No…
I stop kissing her, but leave my lips barely resting against hers.
She places a hand on my chest.
“What is it?” I ask against her lips.
“I’m supposed to hate you.”
I let out a low chuckle. “You don’t have to keep trying to hate me, Talia.”
Her body tenses. “That’s not thepoint.”
I pull away, only a fraction, but keep her in my grasp. I keep her legs on either side of my thighs, but my lips are out of her reach. She at least has the audacity to look even slightly pouty about that.
“Then what’s the point, Talia?” I ask, wanting nothing more than to continue this, to tip her back onto the table and sprawl her open like she already belongs to me.
Talia shifts her legs as if to get away from me, but I grip her thighs tightly, keeping her there.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t like when you do that,” she says, but doesn’t make a move otherwise, or tell me to stop, or to move.
So I don’t.
“What do you like?” I tip her chin up with the crook of my finger, forcing her eyes to meet mine. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
Her eyes roam over my face, as if searching for the answer. Little does she know I’d answer anything she’d ask, as honestly as I could.
“Beg.”
One word.
One word has the power to ruineverything.
This time,Itake a step back, as reluctant as I feel about putting the space between us.
“You wantmeto beg?” A muscle in my jaw clenches. “I do anythingbutbeg.”
Talia quirks a brow at me, then hops off the table. “Alright then.”
She begins to walk away.
