Kyle pulled the comforter back. She settled among the pillows and stretched her legs straight. Sitting beside her with his hip against hers, he reached across her to brace his hand on the mattress.
Her head buzzed.
Then he kissed her.
The buzz quieted. He slowly teased her lips. The touches were too soft for her to taste him. Memory and imagination worked together, mending what she had hoped would happen with what she wanted to happen tonight.
With his free hand, he traced the outline of her ear and jaw. He swept his fingers over her shoulder and along the outside of her breast. Her blood thickened with a decadent combination of anticipation. Peaks of pleasure formed and spread, suffusing her.
Hungry, she pushed his jacket from his shoulders. Gisella watched the play of his lean muscles beneath his T-shirt. Elegance and strength radiated off him when he turned back.
Not satisfied with semi-chaste kissing, not that her body was reading the kisses as remotely chaste, she pulled his T-shirt from his waistband. She fisted her hands in the soft material and pulled him back to her.
His kiss moved deeper this time, with the slightest part of his lips. She opened for him, inviting him in. His tongue played with the inside of her top lip and years of pent-up fantasies burst in her mind.
The night before may have taken her to hell, but then Kyle had come to her door. With him, he brought a slice of heaven. She wanted more than a slice. She wanted the entire damn cake and she wanted it now.
Flattening her hands against his stomach, Gisella moaned and curled into her. Kyle sank deeper into the kiss and pressed his body lightly against hers. It still wasn’t enough. Shifting again, rubbing her legs together and moaning again because of the friction, she moved a hand from him long enough to flip her maxi-skirt up.
Kyle took her hint and moved his hand from the back of the couch to her leg. His fingers flexed, dug lightly into her thigh. A second later his touch lightened and he caressed her thigh. The top, the outside, the back. He went from her knee to her panty line, up and down, and occasionally pinching her the tiniest bit.
She rolled her hips and eased her hands up his torso, playing with his nipples, pinching him when he pinched her. Years of dreaming paled beneath his caresses. She was inexperienced, but every breath with him was natural. Instinctive.
Again she wondered if she should tell him. And again she stopped herself out of fear.
Kyle deepened his kiss, sweeping his tongue along hers. In and out, muscle caressed muscle, she struggled to focus on the bombarding sensations. Her vibrating skin, her buzzing head, her raging blood, her pulsing core. It was all too much and not enough.
Begging with her body, she arched into him. Still kissing her, still caressing her body and face with one hand, he slid the fingers on her leg toward her inner thigh. And up.
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