Page 80 of Kismet

“On the bed,” I murmur against his lips. He pulls away from me, spinning on his heels, walking toward the bed, and I already miss his body against mine. “Lose the underwear too.”

The look he tosses over his shoulder as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband before shoving them down is wicked and dripping with temptation. The briefs slide down his legs and his plump, round ass comes into view, and I have to bite my knuckle to keep from pouncing on him and bitinghiminstead. Those dimples above his ass do nothing but add to the allure.

On his hands and knees, he crawls on the bed until he reaches the headboard. Turning over, he situates himself at the top, thighs shamelessly wide open and inviting. This time Idopounce on the bed like a lion chasing its prey as I creep up his body, stopping to place kisses along the way.

As I straddle his hips, I wrap my fingers around his neck, lowering myself until my mouth brushes his. His lips part for me immediately and my tongue dips inside, licking and tasting every corner of his mouth. He arches into me, pulse thundering against my fingers, as my tongue strokes over his.

The hand not wrapped around his neck is resting beside his head, and when I pull back, his pupils are blown, and his cheeks are flushed as he stares up at me. My body is thrumming with need, from the top of my head, all the way down to the tips of my toes. The blood in my veins is on fire, burning me up.

“You okay?” I ask, voice hoarse.

He nods his head silently, biting his bottom lip.

Bringing my hand between us, I take his cock in my hand. It’s heavy against my palm, silky smooth, and so fucking hard. His brows pinch together, and he hisses through his teeth when I tighten my grip, stroking him from base to tip. My thumb slides over his slit, smearing his arousal around, before stroking back down.

He wraps his hand around my nape, pulling my mouth back down on his. His moans fill the air as he slips his tongue into my mouth. Our lips move together in perfect synchrony as my hand continues to work him over. Bringing my hand up between us, I break the kiss, spitting into my palm before taking us both in my grip.

“Oh,my God,” he croaks against my lips, breath coming out in harsh pants.

I amlostto the feeling of his cock rubbing against mine, paired with my hand wrapped tightly around us. We both start thrusting into my palm as we resume kissing, tongues gliding with one another, and I can’t fucking think.

Nothing in the world exists outside of this. Outside of us.

Being with him feels right—a type of right I can’t describe—but nothing has ever felt as absolute as it feels when I’m with him. His soul sings to mine and my heart beats for him. I’ve never been able to explain the undeniable pull and connection we have, but it’s there, and this moment is proof of that. Even after all these years. And I pray to whatever God exists that when he wakes up in the morning, he feels the same. I need him like I’ve never needed anyone.

We’re both breathing harder, thrusting faster, and I can tell he’s as close as I am. Neither of us can look away, our eyes locked together as I work us closer to oblivion. His neck is pulled taut as he moans through breathless pants. “I’m… gonna come.”

“Me too,” I groan. “Come for me, Bambi. Come with me.”

With eyes so heavy, they can barely stay open, he continues to hold my gaze. “Unghhh.” His mouth falls open, hands fisting the sheets below us, and his cock erupts. Thick, white ropes of cum spray his stomach. Watching him fall apart is too much, and without warning, my own release violently thunders through me. My muscles tighten, my balls draw up, and I explode all over us.

It feels never ending, and it’s so strong, tears spring to my eyes and stars flash behind my lids. I’m floating in a euphoric bubble of him, and I never want to come back down.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cash DeMarco

The first thing I notice is the pounding in my head. My brain seems to be playing ping-pong against my skull. The second thing I notice is the way the sunlight pouring in through whatever window is in front of me hurts my eyes that haven’t even peeled open yet. The third thing I notice is the hard body encompassing my back and the hot breath fanning my neck.

And that’s when all the events of last night flood my mind all at once. Every single drink I consumed and every single fucking idiotic thing I did, including what led me to be here, in this bed, with the last fucking person I should be in bed with.

Goddamnit.

I fucked up. I fucked upreallybad. How the fuck could I let that happen?! Shit, I didn’t just let it happen… I instigated it. I made the moves. I asked him to bring me here.

I gotta get out of here.

Where the fuck is my phone? An even better question is,where the fuck are my clothes?!Good God.

Focusing my attention on the man behind me, I think he’s still sleeping, if his steady breathing is any indication. His heavy arm is pasted over my hip, and as gently and quietly as humanly possible, I wiggle out from underneath him, slithering off the bed like a damn snake. My knees hit the ground, but thankfully it’s carpet, so it doesn’t make much of a sound. When I stand up, I’m able to see my clothes by the foot of the bed, so I make quick work of getting dressed, thankfully finding my phone in my jeans pocket.

With a quick glance at the bed, I make sure he’s still passed out, before slowly and quietly opening the door, and closing it behind me. I reach into my pocket, pulling out my phone, and unlocking it. Shit, I have messages from Kylie. What kind of fucking friend am I? I just leave her in a house full of strangers to go fool around with someone I shouldn’t be fooling around with in the first place?

Kylie: Casheyyyy… where did you go, my friend?

Kylie: I can’t find you. Are you with you know who ;)

Kylie: Doc is really fucking cute, and he just kissed me, and I can’t find you to tell you about it. You suck.

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