Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,285

He shuddered over her, poured himself into her, and with every desperate press of her mouth and flick of her tongue, he felt a little more superhuman.

He pulled away, breathless, and found her staring, wide-eyed, up at him. Her hand rose to cradle his face, and she whispered, “I should’ve known you all my life.”

“From now on.” The words were ripped from deep in his chest, a promise that reverberated through the room. He couldn’t have explained them, but he felt them, and she must’ve felt them too. She grabbed his T-shirt and dragged him down and kissed him again. Then he bent his head over her throat, licking and sucking his way down to her chest. Sinking into all that bare skin. Her fucking body. She was so vulnerable but powerful with it; all thick, soft warmth, but she held herself like some kind of warrior. On Rae, nakedness was the sweetest armour.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, her moans growing higher the lower his hungry mouth went. When he pushed up her breast with one shaking hand and licked, licked, licked, her whole body shuddered beneath him. That was what he wanted—more of her mindless reactions. And teasing them out was no hardship. She had these sweet, suckable tits and tight little nipples like drops of chocolate, and she gasped when he flicked his tongue over one. Gasping was great. Gasping was fantastic. Next up: make her scream his name.

He ran his hand over her ribs, her waist, the curve of her hip, until he reached her underwear. “Can I take these off?”

She opened her mouth, then hesitated. “What for?”

“I have a list.”

Her laughter was bright and beautiful. “That’s good to know. Do you also have a condom?”

Ah, fuck. No, he did not, because up until now, sex had not been on his agenda. He sighed and bumped their foreheads together.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she said wryly.

“And I’ll take that to mean you don’t have one either.” His dick was throwing a vicious tantrum, but he ignored it. “Oh, well. I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied with licking you out until we—” He cut himself off just in time. Swallowed. Slid his gaze away from hers and cleared his throat.

Until we die. That’s what he’d been going to say. But at the last moment, a little voice had warned him that she might see beneath the joke to a truth she wasn’t ready for. A truth that involved him, Rae, and a boatload of commitment and gentleness and all the other things that seemed to make her sweat.

For the first time, cruel uncertainty squeezed at his gut. Hesitating with her didn’t feel right. Hiding from her didn’t feel right. But what could he do? He’d claimed this was all about their friendship, and now he was realising just how badly he’d lied.

As if she sensed the tension in him, her kisses slowed, then stilled. “Hey,” she murmured. “Are you okay?”

“I was—thinking. I need to—” Zach took a breath and almost told her everything. That this wasn’t just a favour. That he was starving for her. That he’d take down the wall around her heart, brick by brick, until he could be absolutely sure she didn’t feel the same. Could she ever feel the same? He’d let himself hope so, but now that hope felt more like a childish wish.

He clamped his jaw shut and held his reckless tongue.

Softly, she asked him, “Do you want to stop?”

He almost didn’t understand the words. Did he want to stop? Was that even English? No-one had ever asked him a question like that at a moment like this. And there was no censure in her voice, no pressure, no ominous hint that the wrong answer would ruin everything. He met her eyes and they told him secrets. She looked at him like he was precious. Did he believe her?

He must, because the tension in him slid away. “Yeah,” he said. And then, because it was an option, and because having that option felt so fucking good: “Let’s… let’s take a break.”

“Okay.” She hesitated, then caught his hand and kissed his big, rough knuckles like he was something delicate and fine. The action shivered through him like sheer bliss. He thought he heard a thousand things she hadn’t said—things Rae would never say, words of adoration and of trust. But maybe she spoke best through looks and touches, and maybe he was learning her language.

The tightness in his chest eased.