Page 61 of Clean Point

She pulled her pink lip between her teeth and my knees weakened further with the need to finally know how her mouth would feel pressed against mine. Her hand rose to where mine was on her jaw.

‘I want you too, Nico,’ she admitted, the words tattooing themselves into the fabric of my soul. The dull ache in the centre of my chest I’d been carrying for weeks dissipated, replaced with a heart that felt as if it had grown ten sizes too big for my chest.

‘Can I kiss you?’ I asked, needing to know this was for her, what it was for me.

There was no hesitation in her answer. ‘Yes.’

27

Scottie

Don’t Delete The Kisses – Wolf Alice

The taste of Nico Kotas’s lips, the gentle rub of his stubble against my cheek, and the way his fingers gripped the back of my head as we kissed was all information I hadn’t woken up thinking I would learn.

But there we were, one hand on my face, pulling my lips close to him, the other at my lower back and gliding further southward, mouths moving together and exploring. My uninjured fist at his shirt, the feeling of the tight muscle underneath pulling at something in my lower stomach.

He was a filthy pleasure I couldn’t wait to unwrap.

He moaned into my mouth as he grabbed at my ass, the noise addictive as my skirt pulled up to reveal the thin shorts underneath. I melted into his body, pressing forward, needing to feel him against mine.

In one quick motion, Nico moved past me and used his arm to clear the counter, before he leaned down, his arms hooking at the back of my thighs and pulling me up. I instantly wrapped my legs around his waist, the centre of his body pressing into mine. The kiss turned desperate, my fingers interlacing with his hair and tugging, lightly at first but as I felt a curve grow on his lips, I used them to leverage his head into a different position, taking some control and deepening the kiss.

We grew hungry, pulling at each other, teeth grazing. I needed as much of him as I could get, desperate to satisfy the endless starvation that had only grown for him. The feel of him was impossible, a ripple of firm muscle and soft skin. My nails dug at his shirt, desperate to remove it so I could trace the black lines of his tattoos that disappeared underneath.

I needed every inch of him. Everything he said before, nobody had ever made me feel the way I did with him. Safe, secure, cared for, and nobody had ever driven me quite this wild.

I breathed him in, losing myself in the smell of his shampoo, wondering if he’d notice if I stole his body wash to cover myself in it. He was, for me, a basic human need. Oxygen, water, shelter, Nico Kotas. And judging by the hardness rubbing in between my legs, it was the same for him.

His hand pulled at the back of my top, finding his way underneath. The way his touch felt against my bare skin sent sparks up from the base of my spine to my neck. His fingers spread, digging into me and pulling me closer – as if there wasn’t any space to begin with. His mouth left mine, kisses trailing across my jaw, finding the base of my neck and sucking at the sensitive skin. My fingers curled on his back, eyes rolling back at the sensation.

He made his way to my ear, pulling at the band of my ponytail and letting my hair fall past my shoulders, then breathed out, ‘Tell me to stop.’ It was a desperate plea, begging for a mercy that I wasn’t going to give him. A mercy that neither of us even wanted. The smile on my lips was out of my control, my brain drunk on the knowledge that as much as I needed him, he needed me back all the same.

‘What if I say keep going?’ I replied, my hands sliding to his face, pulling up, so he left my neck to look at me.

‘Then I will …’

He looked undone, torn, and desperate. His lips red and swollen, grey eyes wild. I imagined mine looked much the same. My chest heaved for air, my heart thundering in my chest as I looked at him, committing every detail to memory. I never wanted to forget seeing the great Nico Kotas looking at me like this. Like I wasn’t just a want, but a wild, unabandoned need.

‘Then keep going.’ I squeezed my legs, pulling where he was hard against the centre of me, and moved my body against his. We both moaned at the touch, the relief driving us again as he thrust, clutching at me for grip.

If we’d been lighting a fire, then the rotation of my hips had thrown petrol on the whole damn thing.

We moved, craving and frenzied, as we found a rhythm, the perfect friction between us driving us further together. I needed more, needed the length I could feel growing against me, my dirty mind hungry to know how impressive he was, how good it would feel when I lowered myself onto him. His touch left my back and moved to the band of my skirt.

‘Can I?’ he breathed against me. I nodded enthusiastically, words out of reach with the anticipation of feeling him against me. He continued, his palms sliding down my front, under my skirt and underwear until he reached me.

‘You’re soaked.’ His voice was low and controlled. The feel of his finger trailing down, the tease of it, had me moaning into his ear as he continued, ‘Is this all for me?’

‘Yes,’ I whimpered at his words as he played with me, his finger gently teasing against my clit, making perfect round circles that were driving me to the edge.

‘Would you let me taste you?’

‘Yes.’

He grinned, his own wickedness teasing me now. ‘The things I’ve been dreaming of doing to you. It’s going to take us a while to work through them all.’

I was ready to beg, and would’ve, too, if it hadn’t meant moving from our position and losing the contact that was driving me wild, pulling my body tighter and tighter, winding me like a coil, ready for release. My reply was nothing more than a hungry moan as he continued. I rubbed desperately against every point of contact, feral for the pleasure he promised me.

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