closer to hers.
Her breath rushes out, and her eyes go dark with the same longing pumping through my veins. “Andrew, wait. We should—”
I cut her off with a kiss, a head-spinning, heart-wrenching kiss that is even hotter and sweeter than our first. My tongue parts her lips, and her arms go tight around my neck, and the rest of the world fades away until there is nothing but her taste, her touch, and the certainty that this is where I’m supposed to be.
With her.
No matter who she is.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sabrina
I can’t do this.
Not like this. Not yet.
I have to tell him the truth—now!
But every time I try to pull away, Andrew kisses me harder, deeper, his hands roaming over my body, setting fire to every place he touches until I’m humming and buzzing and needing so badly I forget why we have to stop.
It just feels so perfect to be with him like this, so close, so right.
“I’ve been dying to taste you again,” he murmurs against my lips as his fingers thread into my hair. “I love kissing you.”
“I love kissing you, too.” My breath catches as he cups my breast through my corset, the pressure of his hand threatening to send my barely contained flesh spilling over the top.
The knowledge that this is about to get way more serious than a kiss cuts through the lust haze, bringing me back to my senses.
I press my hands against his chest and turn my head, pulling my lips from his. “Andrew, we can’t. I—”
My words end in a gasp as he drags his teeth across the sensitive skin at my neck. A beat later, he’s magically spirited my breast over the top of my corset and captured my nipple through the thin linen of the shirt beneath. And then his hand is dipping beneath the linen, and his fingers are warm on my bare skin, and the world spins so hard and fast I have to hold onto his shoulders to stay on my feet.
He kisses his way down my throat, whispering about how beautiful I am and how much he wants me, and then his mouth closes around my nipple, and I forget everything but the incredible way he makes me feel. Driving my fingers into his thick hair, I cling to him as he frees my other breast and his other hand finds its way under my skirt.
Guilt and shame surface for a moment, sending a burst of cold clarity rushing through me, but Andrew banishes it as he drags my panties to one side and slides his fingers through the slick, swollen place between my legs.
“I want to taste you here, too,” he says, his breath coming faster as he kisses his way back up my neck and his fingers push inside me, making me moan. “I want you out of your mind and coming on my mouth.”
I make a hungry sound in response, already so out of my mind I can’t think of anything but how good it feels to touch him, to be touched, to feel my body tightening as his thumb glides over my clit and his fingers push deeper. He kisses me hard, and I answer him with equal urgency, bucking into his hand as our tongues thrust and swirl and stars burst behind my closed eyes.
“Lift your skirt,” he orders against my swollen lips. “And hold it up.”
I start to protest, conscious of how close we are to the rest of the wedding party and how likely it is that someone will come looking for us if we’re gone too long. But then he’s on his knees, shoving my skirt up to my waist. I clutch it instinctively, and before I can push the fabric down, he guides my leg over his shoulder, and I’m lost.
His mouth collides with where I ache, his tongue moving hungrily as he groans against my slickness, and the world turns upside down.
I’m dimly aware of the increasingly swift wind blowing against my burning nipples and Andrew’s hands cupping my ass, guiding me closer to his mouth as he devours me with a single-minded intensity that leaves his passion for the work in no doubt. Each second, my world narrows—to his mouth, his tongue, his voice telling me how sweet I am, how hot I make him, how much he wants me to come.
“Yes, baby,” he moans as I grind into his mouth, shamelessly seeking release from the sweet torture. “Come for me.”
Head dropping back against the stone