Page 91 of Forgive You

She’s mine.

Before I can give in, our lips collide. Every molecule releases our excitement, and I let the tension rush through our kiss. She moans into my mouth, eagerly pushing her tongue against mine.

My hands move, her hands move, gripping and groping as if our lives depend on it. It does. She’s fused with the air that I breathe, without her, nothing to live for.

She still tastes like peaches, but the hint of the flashy cocktail she drank all night still lingers on her lips. It’s sweet, it’s savory,it’s poison for my soul, and I can’t wait to die. I pull her deeper against my chest, her back arching to melt into me.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” she muses, barely leaving any space between our mouths.

I guide her to the four feet brick wall that separates the patio from the beach, tropical bushes acting like a natural barrier.

“All day? Baby, I’ve been waiting for this since I had my first taste.” I spin us around, and she squeals, her breath stolen when I sit her down on the cold stone.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” I ask, bending to kiss her while my hands slide the fabric of her bra down.

Taking my face in her hands, she chuckles with a little confusion. I lock my eyes with hers, loving the frown she’s giving me.

“Did you?” I reach behind her back, unclasping the flimsy lace that’s still between me and her breast.

“Hmm, sure? You?”

I take both boobs into my palms, testing their firmness and softness to my touch. She moans, and I grunt when my dick tests my patience as it tries to break free all on its own.

“It didn’t satisfy my appetite.” Big brown eyes stare back at me, desire pooling in the corners when she suddenly hears what I’m saying.

She plays coy, fluttering her lashes. “I think I can help with that.”

“Yeah?”

She gets up, taking my shirt with her as she lifts it over my head and throws it somewhere behind me. Her palm crashes against my chest with a taunting gaze when I’m pushed back a step.

Goddamn, this is so sexy.

“I think so, yeah.” She seductively moves delicate fingers to the hem of her thong, teasing the fabric over her skin.

She’s gonna kill me.

Her tongue darts out when she moves the lace down, slowly but gradually revealing her gorgeous pussy. A sliver of wetness tempts me, dying to find out how much slickness I’m gonna find when I push her open.

I gulp.

She steps out of the thong, and I remind myself to buy her more heels when they click against the tiles, accentuating her long legs. I want to lick my way up her calf, toward her thigh before I hit home, but when she sits back down, spreading her legs wide, I’m hanging by a thread.

I’ve never had a heart attack, and I pray I never will. But if I would’ve had to describe what I think it would feel like? This is it. The tight feeling in my chest, as if the most important organ in my torso forgets to do its job. As if it’s stuck in traffic without any sign of movement miles ahead.

The world fucking stops, and she’s my light at the end of the tunnel.

But it’s her next move that has me on my knees begging for mercy.

“Eat, Jason.”

It’s not a question. It’s not a plea. It’s a command.

And it’s all I need to lose control, and dive into my dessert like it’s my last supper.

25

Ihave no clue where my bravado comes from as I perch my ass on the cold bricks, my legs spread wide.

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