Page 3 of One Kiss Isn't Enough

When I toss her on the bed, the faded light shining through the slits in the blinds and casting the most beautiful shadows along the curves of her neck and breasts, she takes in a deep inhale, arching her back like she’s been deprived of breath all the while.

That’s when I realize the heavy rising and falling of my own chest, and sharp need to be buried inside of her that overrides any other sane thought that might come to me.

My jeans are off, my shirt ripped over my head and tossed carelessly on the floor in seconds. Her dress and lace underwear are quick to join my pile of clothes.

“I love the way your hands feel,” she moans as I cup her breast in my hand. Her chest is small but full and when I run the pad my thumb over her hardened peaks, her head falls back, her lips part just slightly and her eyes close. I let her lose herself in the pleasure I give her, skimming my hands over her body, kissing every inch of her until I find her hot and glistening between her thighs.

With my breathing finally calm again, and hers ragged as she lays under me, I pump my cock once in my hand to get her attention. Her eyes go wide and that seems to wake her up.

She doesn’t say anything, but her gaze doesn’t leave my length and she stills on the bed.

Fuck. That is not a good sign.

“You alright?” I ask her realizing something is very fucking wrong right now. Please don’t back out. Please, for the love of all things holy, I need to be inside this woman more than I need to breathe.

Licking her lower lip, her body relaxes only slightly when she looks up at me and says, “You’re… you’re really big.” I don’t break her hazel stare.

“I’ll go slow.”

She nods and gets settled, the sheets rustling as she lays down, far more aware than I think she’s been all night.

Nestling my hips between her thighs, she spreads her legs wider for me. The first kiss I give her is in the crook of her neck, that spot I was dying to kiss before. With the head of my dick pressing against her warmth, I let the tip of my nose run up her neck and take my time kissing her again.

The warmth comes back to her body, every small touch bringing her closer and closer to the edge of writhing under me. I nip her lower lip and she kisses me desperately.

That’s my cue to enter her in a swift but slow, deep stroke. I stare down at her as I push all of myself into her. Her nails dig into my back, her reddened lips, swollen from kissing me, making a beautiful little “o”.

And her gaze stays on mine as her heart pounds in time with mine. I stay that way, letting her stretch and get adjusted until she finally breathes again. It takes longer than I thought it would, but every second is worth it.

The next stroke is faster, deeper and then harder. Working my way up to taking her like I want. The slapping sound due to her arousal and my pistoning hips stirs with her strangled moans of pleasure. She tilts her hips every time she comes and it lets me in deeper as her pussy flutters around my cock.

I want to come more times than I can count, but I can’t get enough of the feeling when she gets off. The sound of her crying out my name. The pleas she makes not to stop. Every little thing she does is mesmerizing.

When I finally have my release, it’s four o clock in the morning and her breathing comes in chaotic pants, her body well spent and well fucked.

“Can I crash here?” her voice is a whispered wish, sleeping dragging her down deeper into the covers. As if I’d kick her out. What kind of men is she used to?

“Yeah, of course,” I answer her, pulling the covers around us both. I’m rewarded with a small smile on her gorgeous face and a hum of satisfaction as she scoots closer to me. Apparently, she’s a cuddler. A piece of me is more than satisfied with that side of her and the feel of her against me and the easy way she lets me hold her.

Her body molds to mine, her soft curves not leaving an inch of space between us in the bed. The bed protests with a groan at every small movement we make. The dim light that slips through the blinds, provided only by the street lights, lays against her soft skin, and begs me to kiss her again. Right there in the crook of her neck, just to see if she’ll shiver again at my touch. If it wasn’t for her steady breathing and the angelic look on her face as she sleeps, I’d wake her again and take her again. There’s something about her that’s addictive. Something that calls to a deeper side of me, telling me she needs it just as much as I do.

Lying beside the messy halo of her blonde locks, with the floral and fragrant, I drift off. Sleeping beside her lures me to sweet dreams of her soft moans as I take her again and again; I sleep better than I have in months.

BRODY

I’m not prepared to wake up alone. Finding her side of the bed long gone and cold is a bit of a surprise to say the least. I want her again. I dreamed of the sounds she’d make early in the morning. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I pounded into her. Fuck, I can’t wait to hear her cry out as her nails scraped down my back. There’s no better way to start a morning than a good hard fuck. But the house is empty.

She didn’t even leave me a note, my wild Rose.

That realization makes me laugh as I shake my head and pour myself a cup of coffee. She must’ve left before the sun was even up. I remember her asking if she could stay last night and I wonder if she’s been kicked out before and didn’t want to go through that again.

That’s the first sign of unease I feel, but I shake it off, feeling confident that I’ll see her again at the bar tonight.

It was a wild night and missing her only makes me want her more. Just like the red dress at the bar, she knew what she was doing. Playing hard to get.

I thought she was toying with me. I was so damn certain I’d see her again.

I only went to that bar to look for her. I only stayed in that town an extra week, waiting for her. Every day that passed, the disappointment grew deeper. I decided one day we’d meet again, and I’d make her ass pay for not saying good bye. I got a lot wrong in my life, but I’ve never been so grateful that I was right about running into Rose again. Even if it was four years later, in another town.

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