Page 79 of Be My Compass

I thought I knew everything about Kaelyn. Every little detail. She filled the spaces in my mind. I stored her up in me the way a mechanic memorizes the details of an engine.

I was proud of it.

Of that knowledge.

But I was wrong to think it was everything.

Because it’s not.

I barely scraped the surface of Kaelyn.

Of what she likes.

What she sounds like when she falls apart.

What she tastes like when she’s on the edge.

Her fingers are strong. They leave bruises through clothes. They leave scars on the back. They get firmer or softer, depending on how hard or how gentle my teasing becomes.

Her voice gets hoarse fast. She can’t scream for long.

Only for a few minutes.

And then it’s all moans. All whimpers.

All breathless ‘Kastle, please. Please.’

I didn’t know.

I didn’t know that when she opened up to me, to my tongue’s invasion, she would be so pliant. So responsive. So freaking ready.

I had no idea she’d clamp her thighs around my head.

Buck her hips.

Squirm with abandon.

I had no idea she’d try to give back.

Get me back.

Hold me in her palms and in her mouth and drive me up a damn wall.

I didn’t know.

I had no freaking clue it would be this intense.

But I do now.

And I store it all away to go over later. Alone. When I need her. When I want her.

I put them neatly in the shelves of my mind, as carefully as I can. One after the other.

Kaelyn’s taste.

Kaelyn’s smells.

Kaelyn’s touch.

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