Page 56 of Unwanted

“It’s all I’ve thought about,” he admits.

“You’re determined to get under my skin, aren’t you?”

The side of his mouth tips upward. “I’m determined to get under much more than just your skin.”

Equally turned on and irritated by his forwardness, I slam my mouth onto his, restraint be damned, desperate for the collision. Desperate for him.

This time the kiss was angry. I was angry.

When we were together, I never had to hold back. I had access to him always and I took advantage of that privilege in all the best ways.

This wasn’t like that.

The tables had now turned and he was the one pulling the strings, filling me with lust and confusion every time his words tugged at my weaknesses.

Wanting him and not being able to have him was a new feeling for me, and I didn’t know if I hated or loved it. The only thing I knew was that I had to have him. Ineededhim.

His lips on mine.

My tongue tasting his.

I wanted to drive him as crazy as I felt.

My hands press on his cheeks, my mouth aggressively melding itself to his.

I wanted to eliminate all the air between us. I wanted to devour him whole. I wanted to rid myself of that hollow feeling that only he could fill.

For one minute, I wanted to try and take control.

Pushing my body against his, I guide him to the nearby couch and grunt against his mouth. “Sit.”

He falls into the soft cushions, his legs spread wide, looking up at me expectantly. I climb onto the couch, straddling his lap, and relight the fire between us.

We’d been in this position a million times before, always the start to so much more. “What are we doing?” I ask gruffly.

“Kissing.” His hands slide up beneath my shirt, his touch soft against my stomach, his mouth feasting on my tongue. “Lots and lots of kissing.”

I rub myself against him, finding it difficult to slow down. Every part of me enjoying him but still fearful, worried that every time with him will be our last.

Hands grip my hips, slowing me down, taking control.

“There’s no rush,” he says against my lips. “I’m right here.”

As if he plucked the thoughts straight from my subconscious, his words soothe my exact fears.

My breathing evens out as we both settle into a rhythm, our tongues dancing to their own beat, my hard cock grinding against his. The friction between us inches my arousal higher and higher, my pulse thrumming frantically beneath my skin, every part of me in a newfound state of awareness.

Frankie’s hands return to my torso, pushing my t-shirt up and over my head, momentarily stopping our kiss.

His eyes fall from my face, down to my chest, and back up. His hands follow his gaze. If there was even a sliver of my skin available, he was touching it.

And I didn’t want him to stop.

It had been so long since I’d felt even the slightest bit of need and desperation for someone else, but here with Frankie, I was famished.

I’d settle for the smallest morsel of him: his kiss, his touch, his love. I’d take some of it or all of it, I didn’t care as long as I could be this close to him, always.

His mouth hovers over my breastbone while his hand dips behind the waistband of my sweats. Fingers slide beneath my briefs and wrap around my cock, and my body trembles in anticipation.

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