Page 44 of Never Kiss the Bad Boy

And I think I can do that for him too. I think he needs that as much as I do.

“I’m sure,” I say firmly before I angle my head to kiss him.

There’s a moment when our lips are barely an inch apart and our breaths mingle where I feel like I’m giving in to something inevitable, something that’s been destined to happen since that first day when I cussed Kyle out in my front yard. Something I simply put off when I kicked him out of my house while fate laughed and said, ‘It’s gonna happen no matter what you do.’ This kiss will be different from that one because I’m going into this with my eyes wide open about what’s happening. And I’m ready this time.

He lets me be the aggressor for one short, sacred second where I press my lips to his, feeling him surrender to me, and then his hands move to cup my face as he demands entry to my mouth.

His kiss is as powerful as he is, and I can feel his need for more matching my own as our tongues fight for control. His mouth moves against mine, and one of his hands finds its way to my hair. I can’t help but let my head fall back into his hand, enjoying the way he’s running his fingers through my locks, and he uses my position to place searing kisses along the column of my neck. I moan, holding his head to me for more.

He's everywhere, his mouth and tongue placing kisses across my jaw and neck while his hands roam from my hair, down my back, to my hips, which he squeezes in his strong grip.

God, it’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this.

Kyle slips a hand under my shirt, and the feel of his palms on my sides raises delicious goosebumps all over my skin that only make me more sensitive. I reach down, pulling my shirt over my head.

“Jesus,” he whispers reverently when he sees my breasts lifted in my prettiest bra. I chose it intentionally, knowing that I was playing with fire tonight and wanting to be ready if I decided to dance with Kyle in the flames, and I’m glad I planned ahead because when he traces the blunt tip of his finger along the lace cup, I feel beautiful and feminine and… worshiped, all things I’ve never experienced.

Kyle presses a soft kiss to the mound of my right breast and then my left, his hands cupping me while his thumbs swipe over my hard nipples through the lacy fabric. I arch into his touch. “More.”

His skilled hands make quick work of the clasp at my back, and then he pulls my bra down my arms, leaving me to deal with it as he returns his attention to my now-free breasts. His tongue wetly rasps over the nub of my right nipple while his thumb and finger pinch and roll my left, and then he switches, driving me higher and higher.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into my cleavage at the same time I lean into him, pushing him harder against the couch. He scoots his butt down, reclining further so that I’m sitting on his hips, not just his lap, and I buck against the thick hardness I feel in his jeans. Kyle groans and pulls me against him harder, his cock throbbing against my pussy. I feel powerful, like I’m turning him on as much as he’s turning me on, and I lean down with a small smile to kiss him again.

His mouth is hot, his kiss punishing as he demands more from me. His hands grip my ass, pushing and pulling me over his cock, rubbing himself with my center, but also hitting my clit with every stroke. It’s through my jeans, which shouldn’t be enough, but it feels so good that I’m already getting close.

Suddenly, Kyle picks me up, and fearing I’m going to fall to the floor, I wrap my legs around him, but he places me securely on the couch. Standing over me, he goes straight for my waist, his fingers deftly undoing the button and the zipper, while I kick off my shoes. He peels my jeans over my hips and down my legs, turning them inside out as he gets them off me and then unceremoniously dropping them to the floor. He doesn’t pause, going for my panties next and pulling them off.

Kyle’s eyes trace over me. I should feel vulnerably exposed, naked on his couch while he’s looming over me, still fully dressed, but the hunger in his eyes doesn’t allow for nerves or insecurity. He likes what he sees. That much is obvious, especially when he scrubs a hand over his dick and mutters, “Fuck.”

He places a knee to the couch between my legs, spreading them so he can lie on top of me. His mouth returns to its previous work of kissing along my jaw and neck while his hand moves down my side to my leg, which he bends, creating more room for himself in the cradle of my thighs. His cotton shirt and denim jeans are deliciously overstimulating to my sensitive skin, but I want to feel him and tug at his shirt. “Off. Take it off.”

He reaches over his head, gathering a fistful of the material at his nape and pulling it up. He stops kissing me long enough to take it off but goes back to sucking my nipple as he drops the shirt to the floor. And then I have access to his skin too.

I run my fingers up and down the hard muscles of his back, feeling the way they flex as Kyle moves over me. I test using my short nails on his spine, and he arches into me, his groan vibrating my nipple. “Fuck, yes,” he says. “Show me that fire.”

I writhe beneath him, desperately needing and wanting more. Fire? He’s come to the right place. I rub my feet up and down the backs of his legs, squeeze his hips with my thighs, and scratch and knead his back and shoulders, my touch drifting to his chest and up to his jaw. “Make me come, Kyle. Please.” I mean it to be an order, and though it sounds more like a plea, Kyle obeys.

He pushes my legs further apart and leans to the side, pinning one beneath him. My other leg is pressed against the back of the couch, opening me as wide as possible, and he squeezes the flesh of that inner thigh, working higher and higher as he gets closer to where I need him most. When his index finger glances over my pussy, I jerk reflexively. “Jesus, that’s sexy. I barely touch you and you respond so much.” I’d argue if there was any denying it, but as he runs the flat of his fingers from my entrance up to my clit, a full shudder goes through me, so I bite my lip.

“Nu-uh,” he murmurs, his thumb teasing over my clit in tiny circles now. “Let me hear that mouth. You’re not the quiet type, and we both know it. I want to hear you.”

I’m not a dirty talker. I’m not a talker in bed, period. But Kyle makes me want to be, makes me want to tell him what I want. “Rub my clit.”

His chuckle is dark and ominous, and when he gets nose to nose with me, I can’t help but freeze. “I don’t need you to tell me how to get you off. I know what I’m doing. But I don’t want you holding back. I like you mouthy. Say my name, scream if you need to. Just don’t go quiet on me.”

With that, he slides two fingers into me without warning and my entire pussy clenches, not fighting the invasion but trying to keep him there, filling a void I didn’t know existed until he filled it. I don’t hold back the cry of pleasure, and though my eyes have fluttered closed, I can feel Kyle’s victorious smile like it’s a physical thing in the air between us. “There you go. That’s what I want to hear.”

Kyle works my body like he’s known it my whole life, his fingers fucking me, his thumb circling my clit, and his mouth sucking and tugging on my nipple. In a ridiculously short time, I’m on the edge, in danger of falling. But I don’t want this to end. It’s too soon. It’s not enough. I want more. I want this to last forever.

“Quit fighting it, Daniela. I want you on my fingers before I take you with my mouth.”

“What?” I moan as he strokes into me harder, rougher, his fingers curling forward to pet a spot he’s discovered makes me very nearly lose all control.

He runs his free hand into my hair, gripping the strands deliciously tight as he brings my eyes to his. What I see there is heat and hunger that nearly does me in. “Did you think this was it? I told you I want you coming over and over, so quit fighting it. Fucking come, so I can lick your pussy the way we both want me to.”

He doesn’t stop his movements while his mouth is promising filthy things, and it’s too much for me to withstand. I fall apart, shattering into messy spasms that rack through me as my eyes fall closed. I cry out, maybe Kyle’s name or maybe just incomprehensible sounds. I don’t even know because I’m lost to the pleasure.

Before I come back to the here and now, I feel Kyle move down my body. His fingers never leave me, but his thumb is replaced by the hot, wet feel of his tongue. I arch hard, my back lifting from the couch as I try to lock my thighs against him and run my fingers into his thick hair, pulling him away. “Too much,” I tell him, but Kyle growls against my clit, battering it with the tip of his tongue while somehow sucking it at the same time.

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