Page 70 of Tangled

Olivia

Kane leaves me no time to prepare—for the moment I give him permission, his mouth crashes down to mine, leaving me breathless and desperate for more of him.

My back arches off of the couch as I fight to situate my legs out from underneath me, propping myself up on my knees so I can be more level with his stance. Kane dives his tongue into my mouth, owning me more than he has before, a deep growl vibrating up his throat, making me crave more from him. A rush of memories flood my mind of our first night together—but this time is different. Clara was a fool to make me doubt that this time could be worse.

There is no denying the explosive chemistry between us.

My hands eagerly search for any part of Kane that I can grab onto to as he continues to kiss me with such passion that my knees become weak and I feel wetness pool between my legs—as if I haven’t been wet for this man for weeks.

Our lips press tightly together as my hands meet behind his neck, pulling him down further to me. I feel his palms grace my hips before yanking me off of the couch and lifting my entire body in his arms. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist as he carries me away from the couch, our lips never parting.

I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears, I can feel Kane’s pulse beneath my fingers—and each thump of blood rushing through our veins drives us higher in our need for one another. I feel Kane’s legs carry us to the back of the house, the warmth from the air in the living room slowly dissipating as we move further away.

And normally, I would protest. I hate being cold.

But there is nothing but heat permeating my body right now as Kane deposits me on his bed, hovering over me and finally breaking our lips free from each other.

“Fuck, Olivia,” he growls, his nose trailing a path up the column of my neck until he reaches my ear, pulling lightly on my lobe between his teeth, igniting a flurry of tingles all over my skin.

“Kane…” I mewl, my hands caressing his shoulders and arms covered in a tight black shirt.

“I want to take my time with you tonight, baby. Last time we were rushed. We were so desperate for each other that I didn’t take a moment to memorize every inch of your body.” His words stroke a fire of arousal in my core—the heat so intense I feel like I’m about to explode.

“Yes… please touch me, Kane. Touch all of me,” I surrender—ready and willing to hand my body over to this man.

Kane stands and reaches for my foot, removing my socks before his hands cascade up the buttery fabric of my leggings to the apex of my thighs, while his eyes never leave mine. He holds me in place with his intense stare, as if I would even consider moving from this spot. Who knew that a man taking off my socks could be so sexy?

He runs his thumb along my slit through my clothes, the friction just enough to relieve the throbbing in my clit for a moment until he moves his hand away, and I yearn for his touch again, moaning when his hands leave the area I need them in.

“Patience, baby,” he smirks, reaching for the top of my leggings on my hips, tucking his thumbs in the waistband, and slowly pulling the stretchy cloth down my smooth legs.

Thank God I shaved. Let’s be real, ladies. When the weather turns cold, we’re not as diligent with leg shaving, am I right?

Kane leaves a trail of kisses up my calf to the top of my thighs, his face so close to where I need him to be—yet, he continues to tease me by brushing his fingers against the skin just above my thong and along the juncture where my leg meets my pelvis.

“Kane, please…”

“Mmmm, I can smell you, baby. Tell me how wet I make you…”

His nose presses against the silky fabric of my underwear this time as he drags it through my slit, inhaling my arousal deeply.

“I’m so wet, Kane. I need you…”

“I need you too, Olivia,” he whispers—and somehow, by the tone of his voice, I don’t think he just means right now.

Hooking his thumbs in the band of my thong, he drags the fabric down my legs so I’m left completely bare from the waist down.

“God, this pussy is amazing. I haven’t stopped picturing you since that first night, exposed to me like this. I’ve been dying to taste you again,” his voice rumbles between my legs as he pulls me to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees before I faintly feel the tip of his tongue glide through my wetness. The sensation sends me arching off of the bed, gasping for air, and moaning into the room.

“Oh, God,” I sigh as Kane applies more pressure, circling my clit with his tongue, diving his mouth deep between my legs, tasting every inch of me and lapping up every drop of my arousal.

I climb, high and fast, the pressure and tightening in my stomach coming on strong with every move Kane makes with his mouth. I get lost in each twist and turn of his tongue as he alternates between short and long strokes and then occasionally sucks my clit between his lips.

It’s amazing, electrifying, and yet not enough. I need more. I want more.

And just as the thought crosses my mind, I feel him stretch my opening as he pushes two fingers inside of me. I welcome the intrusion, reveling in the feel of him pulsing his fingers in and out of me, the sound of my wetness echoes in the room as he continues to work my clit with his tongue.

“Yes, right there,” I declare as I feel Kane hook his fingers inside, rubbing that spot that sets me off. And after a few more strokes, the white hot heat of my orgasm slams into me, building like the crescendo of a song as I reach the peak, immersing myself in the feeling of losing control as my body rides out the waves.

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