Page 269 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
So, I do the impossible and break the kiss, and I don’t even feel sick this time. I want more.
I place another small kiss just off her lips, and hungrily, she tries to move in for more. Her tongue brushes my lips, torturing me with the slow and sensual movement as I pull away.
Picking up her phone again, I type one last quick message as she lies before me, chest rising and falling, and constantly catching my eye.
Dollancie:
You don’t threaten to kill someone you feel like that about.
CHAPTER 63
Dollie—present day
He kisses me.
And my heart stammers.
All thoughts of Shane and the awful things he’s done disappear as Ambrose’s tongue moves on mine. His hands pulling me in, our bodies melding.
A moan slips past my lips, and he tastes the need I feel. Pushing me back, something flashes in his eyes as they open for a second, landing on me.
My heart races, seeing his hunger, chasing it. Fingernails scrape his skin, needing him closer, needing this forever.
Legs trail up over his thighs, and his fingers slide up them, hoisting them over his hips. My throbbing center shamelessly drags over the bulge between his legs, and I moan again. My mind shuts down to everything but him, desperately wanting him to keep me in this place where only we exist.
And then it’s over.
He pulls back, leaving me in my sleeping beauty stupor that’s wrapped so tightly around me. One kiss woke me up to the person whom I’ve fought cravings for the longest time.
I stare up at him, mouth open in welcome for oxygen I can’t find in this tiny room.
The glow appears in front of me, making it easy to read his message.
You don’t threaten to kill people you feel like that about.
Those words pull me up, until we’re sharing breathing space. But no air kisses his lips until a tender hand rubs between my shoulder blades.
That first stuttering breath draws me closer. My eyes on his, on that little cluster of freckles on his iris that resembles a love heart, shining in the light of my phone.
I can’t pull my eyes away from him. Silent pleas fall between us as my eyes request an answer to why he stopped, why he pulled back, why he didn’t keep going.
They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and Ambrose has the purest soul, the most troubled and in need of soothing. The need to send a message the same way he did overwhelms me.
My gaze drops to the fullness of his mouth, desperate for another taste of him. A trembling hand clasps his face, and I tilt my head for our mouths to meet. His hand on my back pulls me in, and I fall into him. My mouth on his, my hands on his face, on his tight and tense body. His perfect tongue flicking just inside my mouth. The kiss, like the last, is too familiar. It feels like home.
His lips lift into a smile, and his chest expands with warmth. I feel it all, pressed fully to him, not an inch between us. Pushing myself into his lap, I wrap my legs around his waist, and now, he’s the one to moan. Both of my hands envelope his face, touching scars and the man below that I love and want so much. That thought terrifies me because there was no control, no prevention for it being in my head.
My hips rock over his groin. His grip moves to my hips and tightens, his kiss deepening.
It feels indescribable to be this wanted, needed, loved…
My eyes flick open to the image of his long, dark lashes fanning out against his skin. The red paint on his lips smudged up his handsome face as I sink backward at the sight of him, pulling him with me.
“God, I missed you.”My best friend. My big brother.My protector. My everything.
His mouth finds mine again. A new aggression leads his tongue as it teases mine, hungrily tracing every curve of my mouth. Those innocent nerves playing between us are long gone. All that’s left is heat. His hips lean into me, driving me closer to the edge—to a place we can’t come back from.
Reaching for the hem of his T-shirt, my knuckles brush his abs as the cotton is yanked from my fingers.
