Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,67
my lips. His incredible smell engulfs me, and I can’t help but lean in and tuck my face into the crook of his neck. My nerve endings are like live wires, sparking dangerously.
He huffs out a breathy groan, and his shoulders slump, his lips brushing against my cheek as he speaks, “Shit. I got nervous and wimped out. Did I just fumble the bag?” His voice is thick with arousal as it blows across my ear, causing goose bumps to break out on my skin. His arms tighten on me, crushing my body against his.
Hope prickles at my subconscious. Chuckling, I shake my head. “No, you didn’t.” I actually like that he’s nervous; it gives him a cute edge. I’m nervous too. It’s been a while since I’ve been this close to a man—not counting last night, of course.
“No?” He pulls back, his hopeful eyes searching my face as his teeth sink into his bottom lip.
Shaking my head, I slowly slide my hands up his chest, relishing how his whole body tightens when I tangle one hand into the back of his hair, fisting the soft strands. My heart thumps erratically. “Try again,” I encourage.
He blinks and swallows, and just like that, his nerves are gone; instead, his eyes blaze with white-hot heat. It’s scorching; I feel like it might burn me up. I’ve never had anyone look at me like that before. My body softens against his, and I grip his shoulders for support as his eyes say he wants to devour me whole.
I’m not sure I’m even ready for the kind of passion I can see burning there. It’s exhilarating and frightening at the same time.
His hands cup my jaw, tilting my head as he moves in so close that I can taste the champagne on his breath. Every inch of him presses against me. I’m trapped between the door and his hard body. I couldn’t move an inch even if I wanted to—which I don’t.
His thumb traces across my bottom lip, and I see his pupils blow out with desire. “I’ve been thinking about these lips all damn day. They’re so red. Like my favourite cherry Push Pops I used to suck on as a kid.” His voice is gravelly and seems to have a direct line to my core.
I’m so uncomfortable; I can barely keep still.
“Bloody hell, Theo, stop teasing me. Either kiss me or leave me alone, so I can go jill off while I imagine you did!” I’m getting antsy now.
“Jesus.” His nostrils flare, and his eyes widen in surprise.
I must admit, I’m a little surprised myself. I don’t know where that came from.
He chuckles and teasingly traces his nose up the side of mine, shifting on his feet. Where he moves, it causes our chests to rub; my nipples are already hard, so the friction is maddening. My eyes drop closed as a flutter of pleasure grips my core.
Oh man, can you come from not even being touched? Because I think I’m close.
I’ve been on edge all day, and this is too much.
Suddenly, his lips brush against mine, a featherlight kiss that makes my knees weaken. I whimper and slide my arms around his neck, carelessly dropping my clutch bag on the floor as I hold on to him for dear life. He kisses me again, harder this time, his teeth scraping on my bottom lip. My hand tightens in his hair as the kiss deepens. When his tongue traces along mine, he groans into my mouth, and the kiss swiftly changes into something else entirely. It’s no longer sweet and soft; it appears that his passion has spiked, too, and he presses against me desperately, one hand moulding over my hip, his fingers digging into my skin, causing a little pleasurable pain that sends my body into a frenzy. His other hand grips the back of my neck as he kisses me like he can suck out my soul. It’s wild, confident, possessive, masterful. I love it so much that another of those small, pleasurable flurries hits me. I’ve never been so turned on by a kiss. Scratch that. I’ve never been this turned on, period.
He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine. A low moan rumbles in the back of his throat. It’s my new favourite sound.
“You taste like that fucking chocolate cake from dinner. I didn’t think the damn thing could taste any better, but I was wrong,” he growls, licking my lips.