Page 21 of Organized Chaos
I bit hard at the base of her neck. An inappropriate show of aggression, a primal need to mark the girl I had no claim over.
Maya ground her jaw to suppress the reaction. “What the hell, Brandon!"
Placing my lips on her flushed skin, I licked the bruise with care. “I want you.” My voice shook as I steadied my manic temper.
“I’m sorry,” she groaned. “I can’t do this!”
“And I can’t think straight until I kiss you,” I faintly whispered. It was absurd that I still hadn’t tasted her lips.
She stared, eyes teeming with doubt.
“After all the shit that happened, you have no idea how much I need this.” I hugged her close. “How much I need you,” I added inaudibly.
“This isn’t a good idea... it’s not...” She grappled for words as I dragged my lips across her heated cheek, nearing my destination.
“Just let me kiss you,” I spat out with difficulty, barely hanging on by a thread.
My lips loitered with an unrelenting lure until her reservation cracked. A part of me was convinced she needed to take that last leap of faith on her own.
Maya finally caved. “Just one kiss.”
I pressed a kiss on the corner of her mouth before our lips met in perfect synchronicity. Slowly, possessively, I held her mouth hostage. My tongue moved leisurely against hers, the taste of her dominating my senses.
“You have no idea... how badly,” I shuddered in between words, “I have wanted to do that.”
My brain felt like it was made of cotton candy—fuzzy and weaved with the sweetness of this woman’s aroma. Dragging her face closer, I kissed her again, pressing my body against hers. Several times, I opened my eyes to verify it was real.
She pushed against my chest. “Okay. That’s it.”
“Don’t.” I grabbed her wrists, trembling from spouts of desperation to taste her again. Pinning her hands on the sofa, I swooped down, this time without holding back.
My tongue lewdly tasted the bitter-sweet remnants of the red wine inside her mouth. Insatiably. Ferociously.
“We nd to stp,” she spoke the muffled words against my mouth.
“Not yet.” I couldn’t fathom the idea of stopping. “Just... a little longer,” I pleaded with an urgency I had never known before. Hands roamed freely, touching every part of her body, gliding the dress up her silky-smooth thighs.
“Wait,” Maya protested weakly.
“Shh,” I coaxed. “It’s okay, baby.”
Her eyes flew open, astonished.
It was my turn to freeze. I didn’t practice words of affection or pet names during physical intimacy. It had slipped out, and honestly, it didn’t feel forced, solely natural.
“I need to...” I struggled to verbalize, “...feel your skin.”
I continued to lift her dress with care—stopping only to breathe in her scent—so she wouldn’t notice I was unwrapping her like a precious Christmas gift. Nudging her legs wider, I rubbed against her groin, barely containing the urge to rip off the underwear and fuck her raw.
She pressed her thighs together. “Brandon, I told you... we can’t have sex.”
“Then let me make you feel good... if this is all we can have, at least let me touch you.” I grazed my fingertips over her heated core. Liquid surfaced over the thin fabric of her underwear, making me groan.
This time, Maya stayed put.
I pulled at the hem of my shirt over my head, discarding it onto the floor. I reached for her dress next. Her tits sprung free as I lifted the dress over her chest with a quick maneuver.
Maya was stretched out under me, moving her face to the side, deflecting. She didn’t want to bear witness to what we were doing in the dark. It was evident that no one had seen her naked before, and she was stuck somewhere between insecurity and hesitancy.
