Page 52 of Trust Me

“You want them because no one else has had them,” I argue, feeling his heart beat erratically under my palm.

“No, Jasmine. I want to kiss you because it’s all I’ve thought about doing since you came to this apartment in that fucking dress. I want to kiss you because I admire your mind, your heart that’s warming up to mine, and every fucking thing in between.”

“What about my father?” I ask, trying to put up a wall between us.

His hands come up to the wall, one on either side of my head. “I’m willing to cross the line if you are.”

My mouth gapes open, my pulse skittering at the prospect of doing exactly that.

“Do you trust me?” he rasps on a swallow.

I nod, knowing deep in my soul that I do. Maybe it’s because of his gestures or our connection that’s transcended the lust that was once there before.

“Words, dolcezza, I need words.”

“Y-yes, I trust you,” I stutter, nervous for what’s about to come, yet eager.

“Good.” He lifts his forehead off mine. Then, before I know what’s happening, he’s lifting me in the air, my legs instantly wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the couch. He sits down, with my legs straddling his thighs.

Holy shit, I’m straddling a man. And not any man, but Elio fucking Mazzo. I can feel his muscular thighs under mine, along with the rapid beating of my heart and the wet spot on my panties.

I rest my hands around his neck, feeling shy. “What are you doing?” I ask, wishing he would take the lead because I have no idea what to do.

“Letting you be in control.” He stares at me intently, his forest-green eyes nearly black as his lips part. His hands are resting on my hips, squeezing me tighter to him.

“I don’t know what to do,” I murmur, tilting my head while my cheeks flush.

“What do you want to do?” he asks gently.

“I want to kiss you,” I admit, my eyes on his lips.

“Then kiss me,” he rasps.

I do as he says, leaning forward tentatively until our noses touch, our breaths mixing in the space between. My breath hitches in my throat and he swallows roughly.

I erase the last bit of distance between us, pressing my lips softly against his full ones. My entire body prickles at the contact, warmth flooding from my chest to my belly. He presses back, kissing me gently, letting me move my lips against his at my own pace.

Elio’s hand comes up to cradle my jaw, titling my head, letting me deepen the kiss this way. A rush of pleasure courses throughout my body, making me moan into the kiss as I put one hand into his hair and tug, loving the way his hands are splayed around my back, his hands covering the span of it.

I have no idea if this is good for him, and the thought makes me pull back. “How was that for you? I have no idea what I’m doing,” I pant, feeling embarrassed at the idea of being an awful kisser.

His hand comes up to cradle my face, and I lean into it. “How was it for me?” He chuckles, taking my hand from his neck and placing it on the hard length between his thighs.

I gasp at the feel of him hard beneath my touch, at knowing I did this to him. A wave of confidence pours through me at the fact.

“That’s what happens when I get kissed by the prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. That sum it up for you?”

I chuckle, realizing that I need to relax. “Kind of.” I bite my lip, looking down at my hand on the thick, hard length under his sweats.

“What’s wrong? Not what you expected?” he asks, a hint of defeat in his tone.

“No, it was more,” I admit, blushing once more.

“Agreed. Did it feel like I wanted to kiss you?”

“Yes,” I say without a doubt. I could feel how much he wanted me with his lips alone. I didn’t think that was a thing, feeling people’s intentions and emotions through their lips, but it is.

“Good, now I’m going to show you how it feels to be wanted and claimed.” He crashes his lips to mine before I can respond, and I can instantly tell the difference.

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