Page 32 of Gemini Queen
“I did,” I whisper, licking my dry lips, not even feeling capable of tackling that whole “our bed” assertion, which ties directly to the whole fated mate assertion I also need to tackle. I feel so incredibly exposed with my thighs splayed wide in this short skirt and silk panties, the tips of his calloused fingers barely grazing my skin above my stockings.
His eyes flicker to find my mouth and his lids drop. He leans in close enough to feel the heat of his breath, until his face is all I see. My eyes drift closed, my hands resting on my bunched-up skirt.
And all I seem capable of wondering is what he’d do if I pushed my skirt up and gave him a real show.
“Tell me to stop, babe,” he says hoarsely, his breath fanning my lips, “or else I’m not going to.”
“I’m not mating you,” I manage to say, which seems like the most salient point.
“That’s not telling me to stop.” His nose bumps gently against mine and he nudges my chin with his.
I suck in a breath and take the plunge. “Then don’t stop—”
His warm mouth closes gently over mine and steals every single word in my vocab. He smells like sage and he tastes like spearmint. He must’ve had a mint or something while I was in the john. Between parted lips, our tongues meet in a tentative touch. He groans and I whimper.
I’m braced to be devoured, but he seems content to nibble, all slow careful sweeps of his mouth over mine, his entire body still except for these long languid sips of lips meeting lips and tongue finding tongue, touching just briefly each time before we pull away. In fact, he’s a lot more careful than I expect, though his breath is shallow and quick and I can feel his hands tremble.
That’s how bad he wants me.
He wants me so bad I’m making his hands tremble.
He’s honestly making me crazy—his restraint, his need, his oh-so-careful pace—even when I rest my hands on his waist to encourage him.
God, I want more of his hands and his tongue on my body. I don’t care right now if it’s going to cause problems later. My hips are tilting on the seat to give him access, little rocking thrusts to encourage him. I’m actually squirming with eagerness to get more of his hands and his mouth on me.
Too impatient and worked up now to wait, I grip his waist and drag him close. A deeper groan rumbles from his chest and he finally gives me that ravenous open-mouthed kiss I’m craving, lips crushing mine, tongue plunging deep, drinking down all the little pants and whimpers I can’t seem to swallow.
That climax I was chasing this morning hasn’t gone very far. It’s hovering between us like a promise. Actual sex feels way too complicated given everything else that’s hovering between us. But with him able to read my mind, I’m really wondering if maybe…
“You want to come for me, babe?” he mumbles into my mouth.
Now I’m really starting to see the upside to this whole fated mate concept.
He huffs out a husky chuckle and eases those rough palms of his up my thighs. The second his fingers find the edge of my panties, my head falls back. Under that little strip of silk, I’m hot and aching and slick with hunger. He mouths his way down my neck as his thumbs skate up the damp silk of my panties.
When one thumb hits the swollen nub of my clit through the silk, a sound rips out of me that I don’t even recognize as mine.
Turns out that’s the way I sound moaning his name.
He nuzzles deep in my neck, breathing hard against my skin, and I claw at his back through his sweater. He’s kneading my slit with his cupped palm and working my clit through the silk, finding the pace and the pressure I need, and I’m drenched and rocking into him and crying out for more.
And he hasn’t even gotten under my panties when that climax I’ve been craving all morning rolls through me like an avalanche and shatters me. My high cry of release mingles with his long low groan, like what he’s doing is killing both of us.
“Oh God, babe,” he breathes out against my skin, my pulse slamming against his kiss. His whole body is trembling in my arms. “That was so totally worth waiting for.”
I’m still seeing stars, and now I want him to see them too. I want to take care of him the same way he just took care of me. I want to make him feel so good.
“You do,” he whispers. “You will. That’s worth waiting for too.”
He keeps saying that, and it crosses my mind to wonder if he’sreallybeen waiting, like, literally? Like if he’s actually been celibate while waiting for me to figure my shit out and come to my senses.
“Oh, Zara.” His head lifts and my eyes open and he cradles my head in his hands. “What do you thinkfated matesmeans?”
My mouth falls open. “Neo, you… you can’t honestly be saying…”
The deep gong of a bell makes the air tremble. It’s like a church bell or something echoing through the walls. But given what’s going down right now between us, the bell doesn’t really register, even when it keeps on tolling at a measured pace.
“Damn,” Neo whispers. He leans his forehead against mine. “That’s the lunch bell. We’ll have to finish this later.”
