Fighting Fate (Fighting #7) - JB Salsbury Page 0,45

when I needed you.” She rocks her hips against me, and the way her breath hitches from the friction between our bodies makes me groan.

“I want you, so bad, in every possible way.” The words tumble from my lips in a plea.

“I want you too.” She angles her head and brushes her lips against mine.

So soft, so damn sweet. Better than anything I imagined.

Her tongue traces the seam of my mouth and I pull away.

“I’m sorry. Is this too much? Too fast?” She wiggles to back off my lap, but I grip her ass and pull her back flush to me.

“No, never too much and, after four years of waiting, it’s far from too fast.” I run my thumb along her closed lips. “But I’m not kissing you as long as you have that metal in your tongue that you got for another guy.”

Her cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink and she nods.

I press the tip of my thumb between her lips, nice and slow, mimicking the way I’ve dreamed of doing it with my fingers between her legs. Her breath catches, and her teeth part to welcome me in her mouth. She pulls my thumb deep with a suction that draws all the blood to the surface; the ball of her piercing toys with the pad.

“Fuuuck.” Blood powers through my body, making me throb.

She closes her eyes and continues to suck as I drag my thumb in and out with lazy strokes.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, baby.”

She flexes her hips, and the heat between her legs intensifies.

Unable to drag this out any longer, I slide my forefinger between her lips and grip the ball of her piercing. “Open.”

She slides her tongue out, and I unscrew the ball, pulling free the barbell and tossing it into the nearest trashcan. I expect her to protest, to make some remark about wanting the piercing back after we’re finished here, but instead her eyes flash with understanding and acceptance.

She squeals as I stand, locking her legs around my waist. I carry her to the bed.

Laying her back, I thrust long and hard against her. I might be a virgin, but it doesn’t take a genius to know how to move inside a woman.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, Axelle.”

“Please,” she moans.

“Everything changes after this; you sure you’re ready for that?”

Her hands fist into my hair, and her body undulates beneath me. I turn my head with a muttered curse. This woman is going to kill me. And what a sweet fucking death it’ll be.

“Killian?”

How long have I waited to hear my name from her lips, heavy with hunger and longing?

“Yeah, baby?”

Her gaze tangles with mine and sparkles with desire. I hold my breath, so scared she’ll say something that’ll end what we’ve started. That she’ll come to her senses and realize I’m nerdy Killian McCreery from high school and be repulsed.

“I love you too.”

Fourteen

Killian

Axelle loves me.

The words strike my chest and knock the air from my lungs. I drop my forehead to her neck and fight bursting into tears. She holds me to her, comforting me as if she’s aware of the power of her confession. I whisper words of gratitude against her skin, silent praises to God for deeming me worthy of this woman and her love.

She loves me.

My lips move from praises to worshipful kisses, slowly skating up the side of her throat to her jaw. The mild hint of soap mixing with the subtle sweet scent I’ve come to recognize as hers alone ignites my blood. I pull the smooth skin with my lips as she pants heated breaths against my ear. Closer to her mouth, I pull away to gaze down at her. Tears shine in her eyes and burn behind mine.

With our eyes on one another, I lower my mouth to hers. The first touch of her lips is an explosion that races down my spine. I hum in satisfaction as she opens to me, my tongue delving in to glide against hers—testing then tasting and savoring.

She does the same, kissing me back with an unhurried passion, as if she’s committing every new sensation to memory. She tastes like mild honey and smells like wildflowers, and my hunger to gorge myself on her pulses beneath my skin.

With my knee between her legs, I shift to her side, giving my hand full access to explore her luscious body. Her breasts strain against the baggy T-shirt as she arches off the bed, an open invitation I’m not stupid enough to decline.

My fingers

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