Page 34 of Our Secrets and Scars

I’ve never experienced this before, and I don’t know what it is. And though my mind is so often occupied by thoughts of Fletcher and his letters, I find my heart becoming increasingly taken over by Holden.

It’s a dangerous thing to feel, especially when he’s been more than clear about his feelings for another woman. But apparently, self-preservation isn’t a priority of mine because I move my face toward him until our lips are but a breath apart and whisper, “Let me make it better.”

He freezes.

His eyes go wide, and I watch with pure enchantment as his pupils dilate until they conquer his irises completely. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and I have an inexplicable, almost dying need to run my tongue over it.

But I don’t. Not until he tells me I can.

It feels like hours pass, though it’s only mere moments before he nods his head the smallest amount. But that one tiny, minuscule movement is all I need. I seize the moment, closing the space between us before either of us has a chance to suck in a breath.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about this before, if I hadn’t imagined it sometimes in the middle of the night when Isla’s fast asleep across the room and my hand is buried between my legs. But no fantasy could compare to the reality.

Because his lips are softer than anything I’ve ever felt. No pillow, feather, or stick of cotton candy has ever gotten close to them. And when they part to let my tongue slip between them, the gasp I release is unstoppable. It’s desperate,shameless,but there’s no need for me to be embarrassed because it seems to awaken something inside of him. And suddenly, it’s not me who’s in control anymore.

His tongue pushes inside my mouth, dancing with mine in the most dizzying rhythm. And the sound he makes,God,it’s somewhere between a moan and a growl. This savage, feral noise makes me shudder and search desperately for friction against my aching clit.

He knows it too because he grips my hips so tightly that I’m sure he’ll leave bruises and grinds me down against his hard length. I buck against him, riding him through our clothes as we moan and gasp into each other’s mouths.

I never felt like this with Shane, my ex from high school, the several times we made out, or even the times we fucked. With him, it was kind of mechanical. It was about him, never me. I don’t think I came even once.

But with Holden, he doesn’t need to do anything for me to know with blinding certainty that this, whateverthisis, is about us. The way he holds my eyes as I grind down on him, wide and a little awestruck. The way his kisses are bruising and dominating, yet somehow so delicate too, it’s clear he’s in this with me, not just using me to get off like Shane always did.

It’s in the way he snakes one hand into my hair to cup the back of my head. How he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth to run between his sharp teeth and how he pulls away just to look at me for a moment or two before leaning back in to taste me again.

“I’m not safe with you, am I, little one?” he whispers against my lips.

“No less than I am with you.”

His large hands slide up my thighs to hold my ass beneath my skirt, his fingers digging into me so deeply that I can almost feel my skin turning blue beneath them.

“This isn’t fair to you,” his voice shakes as he says it, “but I can’t stop myself.”

He grinds me down against him harder, his eyelids shuttering like he’s already experiencing the most intense pleasure he’s ever felt, and he’s not even inside me yet.

“Good,” I breathe, throwing my head back as my hips find the perfect rhythm, my clit rubbing up and down his length until my body begins to tremble. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Fuck, I neverwant this to stop.

But I do want more. I want to feel him inside me, his fingers, his cock. I want to hear the roughness of his breathing when he slips into me for the first time and see the expression on his face when the pleasure gets too much and he finally comes.

I need it. And I need it now.

“This is a bad idea,” he says, though his hands continue to knead the globes of my ass, his fingers teasing so close to my center that I can’t stop the way my body shakes against him.

“I don’t care,” I say, leaning back just enough to get my hands in between us to struggle with the buckle on his pants, but I can’t get them undone. Not with the shivers wracking through my body or the intoxication I feel at finally touching him like this, as if I’ve had one too many shots of Patrón.

When I look to him pleadingly, he chuckles lowly and puts me out of my misery, deftly undoing the button and zipper but leaving the rest for me. The eyebrow raise he gives me is a challenge. And I accept it, eagerly tearing into his underwear, my shaking fingers searching wildly for his cock. When I finally wrap my hand around his thickness, we gasp together like we’re running out of air.

It jumps in my hand, hot and needy. I run my thumb over his slit, collecting that little salty drop that’s already seeping out, and without even thinking, suck it into my mouth. His eyes close, and he groans as if imagining it’s his cock between my lips instead of my thumb.

AndGod,how I’d love to taste him, to suck his pleasure out of him for real, but I’m too desperate to feel him inside me.Next time,I think, ignoring the little voice in my head that tells me this might be my one and only shot with him.

Holden flips my skirt up, revealing my tiny strip of underwear that’s already soaked with my need for him. “Fuck,” he groans, gnawing on his bottom lip as his finger runs a torturous path up and down my covered pussy.

Pulling out his wallet from the glove compartment, he digs around for a foil packet and fiddles with it. Impatient, I rip it from his hands, tear it open and roll the condom down his remarkable length.

“Holden,please,” I beg.

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