Page 36 of Kiss-Fist
They flex under his fingers, and he sucks in a breath before looking up at me and shaking his head. ‘Don’t,’ he mouths.
I roll my eyes and repeat his earlier sign. ‘I’m fine.’ I use both hands for emphasis. Don’t even know if that works, but it feels right.
He shakes his head and once again points to my knees, then to the first aid box on the corner of my desk.
‘You want?’ I sign, then gesture atit.
He gives me an annoyed look and nods as if to say, ‘Yes, obviously.’
That irritates me because I want to help him. I don’t want to sit around while he attempts to put himself back together. With a flick of my wrist, I slide it toward him and attempt to take a step back, but he snags my shirt with one hand, then shoves me against the desk so hard I can’t help but plop my ass on the edge.
What the hell?
He makes a very satisfied hum, nods, then flips open the top and pulls out a few packets of gauze and some antiseptic wipes. I say nothing becauseoh. He wants to take care of me. My breath is trapped in my chest as his hands—so strong yet so fucking gentle—poke and prod at me.
This is so ridiculously romantic I don’t even know what to do with myself.
I watch his sharp, slightly crooked eyeteeth tear open the corner of one of the wipes, and I want to slide my tongue in his mouth. He breathes softly as he touches the wipe to my skin, looking up at me like he’s reading my body language, and I realize it’s because he is.
He can’t hear if I’m making noises of pain.
So I do everything I can to keep my expression soft and open, and as I sit there, his eyes don’t leave mine. He finishes cleaning me up and ends the whole thing with a soft pat on my thigh before starting to rise.
I catch him before he can stand all the way up and drag him between my spread legs. His breath rushes out, soft, warm, and minty as it ghosts across my cheeks.
I can’t break eye contact. I’m physically unable to.
My hands move from his hips to his ribs, prodding very softly. ‘Hurts?’ I mouth.
He lifts his hands and makes a sign for hurt. I copy it. He nods, smiles, and lifts his hand to answer me. ‘No.’
I press a little harder and he sucks in a breath, but I don’t think it’s from pain. He sways closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off of him. God, I want him so much.
I can tell we both know this is a terrible idea. It makes no sense, and yet, I want it. And if the bulge pressing against the inside of my knee is anything to go by, so does he.
“Fuck it,” I say aloud.
His hand moves to my lips, fingers tracing them. ‘Again,’ he mouths.
“Fuck it,” I repeat slowly. I lick my lips, catching the tips of his fingers. “Kiss me.” I only wonder if he understands my words for as long as it takes for his pupils to fully dilate.
There’s a moment—a long pause where I’m not sure if he’s going to obey my command or run away. His jaw tightens, and he glances behind us at the closed door before turning to meet my gaze.
And then he leans in.
His lips hit mine, and I groan, loving the way his tongue tastes against mine. And he doesn’t go slow either. He pushes it into my mouth and licks every corner of me. My fingers ruck his shirt up, and I’m met with warm, smooth skin. Fuck, he’s perfect. The way he fits against my palms. Those narrow hips. My thumbs brush against the bones protruding there as I pull him closer.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, feeling the moans I’m emitting while his other slides up my thigh. Thosefingers drag slowly across my shorts right to the bulge between my legs.
I kiss him harder as he pushes against it, making fireworks explode behind my closed eyes. I scoot closer to him, wanting more, wanting him to touch me bare. God, what that would feel like.
Robbie doesn’t let up, dragging the heel of his palm up and down my dick, driving me wild.
I’m moaning loudly now. I know I should tamp it down, but fuck, it’s hard to do when Robbie is touching me. His hand is right on my cock, relentless and so close to perfect I want to cry. I need to touch him too.
His lips pull from mine as my hand drags up his dick. His pupils are dilated, his mouth wet and swollen from my rough kisses. Warm puffs of air hit my lips as we continue to touch each other, bringing ourselves closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.
Why is it so good with him?
