Page 38 of 7 Nights of Sin

Chapter 13

Caro

Oh god.

Oh lord.

What was I doing?

That thought went through my head again and again, but there was never any answer. The part of me that was preoccupied with being kissed more thoroughly than I had in ages kept shushing the part that was screaming this was a terrible idea, and I was caught in the middle.

It was a terrible idea. Definitely. One hundred percent. I was going to come to my senses and want to smack myself for being stupid.

But he was a damned good kisser. His mouth was hot and wet, and he kept stealing my breath with each pass of his tongue, each press of his teeth.

I felt like I was falling and floating all at the same time, and it was hard to focus on anything but the way his mouth felt on mine and the way my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest.

With every second that passed, I felt myself giving in, accepting that I wanted him. I flashed back to the time when I’d touched myself thinking about him, and I felt myself getting wet immediately. There was no question that, bad idea or not, I wanted it to happen.

So when he pulled back and licked his lips, I chased his mouth with my own, dragging him down for another, messier kiss. I bit his lip and held him close to me, tasting the pasta and wine in his mouth, tasting myself a little, too.

He just groaned and let me take the lead, and I kissed him until I was breathless.

When he took my hand and led me up the stairs, I didn’t protest. We went to the side of the house where his bedroom was, and I didn’t stop him or pull away.

His bed was messy and there were clothes on the floor, but I barely noticed when he was shutting the door behind us and pressing me against it, getting his hands under my ass so he could haul me up and hold me against the door.

Fuck, that was incredibly attractive, the fact that he didn’t have any problem doing that. He held me up like I didn’t weigh anything, and it was the perfect angle for me to wrap my legs around his waist and hold onto his shoulders while he kissed at my throat.

His lips blazed a burning trail, and I gasped softly, rocking my hips forward with need.

"Tell me," he growled against my neck, and I shivered, brain not making the connection with what he wanted me to say. It was too busy short circuiting because of how turned on and needy I felt.

It had just been so long since someone had touched me like this, since I'd felt so wanted, and even though I knew it wasn't the best thing to do, I wasn't going to stop it. Not when there was a fire blazing under my skin, and my heart was pounding, pumping the beat of desire through every inch of me.

I made a questioning noise, and Kevin growled again, pressing me harder against the door, hips pushing down against mine in a rough thrust that made me moan softly.

"Tell me you want me," he said, and there was a hint of desperation to it. Like he was holding himself back until he heard me say those words.

I swallowed hard.

Of course I wanted him. I could feel that want spreading through me, driving me to buck against him. It was in the flush that spread from my cheeks down to my chest, and the way my pussy was already slick and wet and eager to be touched my him. If he was paying attention he would already know. Saying it was a whole different thing.

But he needed to hear it, clearly. When he pulled away from my neck to look at me, it was there in his bright eyes, the pure need and the struggle to wait until he heard it.

I swallowed again, mouth suddenly dry.

If I didn't say it, he would probably stop, and I would go back to my room alone and be angry and frustrated for the rest of the night. Hell, for the rest of the week.

And if I did...

If I did, I didn't think I could take it back.

My body was screaming at me to stop being stupid and just say the words. The thrum of desire under my skin was just building, getting more and more insistent, and I opened my mouth, not able to hold back.

"I want you." It came out raspy and soft, but there it was. The words he wanted to hear so badly.

And it was like throwing a switch. The desperation in his eyes was still there, but there was fire to them too. Determination and pleasure, and something that looked like promise.

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