Page 4 of Twins for the Enemy

~KIERAN~

The moment I saw her in the car, I knew I had to keep her safe.

And after she was safe, I had to have her.

Her lips brush against mine, almost clumsy in their tenderness. They brush against my lips again. Her hand moves down to my shoulder. I kiss her back, harsher than her, but she responds with the same intensity. Our lips collide—like thoughts or cars or bodies. The compass clatters to the floor.

I nip at her bottom lip, surprising her enough that her body flinches under my palms. A small sound escapesfrom her throat that strikes a desperation in me that I've never felt before.

I’ve never been the desperate type. When I walk into a negotiation, I come with leverage, sharp words if needed, and I’m not afraid to show teeth. If a deal falls through, I move on. No drama.

Women are the same to me. It's not that I don't respect them, but I've never needed them. They're a momentary pleasure, meant to be savored, devoured, then left behind like a good meal when it’s done.

But as this woman kisses me, desperation rises in every nerve of my body. I'm at the negotiation table now, willing to give up anything.

She's too young for me. I'm not one of those men who need a younger woman to feel youthful. Youth is a time for mistakes. I don't have time to make mistakes, and I don't have time for someone else's.

Still, I don't pull away because the taste and warmth of her mouth pulls me closer. Her kisses are small, almost timid, but she's clinging to me in a way that's moredemanding than a military captain. Her full breasts push against my chest. I push back against her, pressing her back into the mattress. My fingers sink into her hair. I'd seen it as simply blonde before, but it's much more radiant than that. It's the golden shade of a sunrise, giving off a warm glow.

Her back arches. The gesture is enough to send a feral hunger through me—not like a man who could eat steak every night, but an animal that hasn't eaten in days.

Her breath is in my ear as I unbutton her jeans. She slides an inch up the bed as I tug on them. She grips the edges of the mattress so I can get them past her ass before whipping them off and casting them aside.

I run my hand up her calf, her knee, her thigh. Her underwear is a plain black cotton pair that’s starting to fray at the edges. When I brush my hand on the inside of her thigh, a shiver passes through her.

I lean over to kiss her again and feel her hands fumble with my belt. After several seconds of her struggling to get the leather out of the buckle, I take it, unbuckleit, and toss it in with her jeans. She bites her bottom lip, indenting it, and starts working on my zipper. The lip bite is usually meant to look sexy, and it does with her, but it's not a purposeful sexiness that I've seen with other women. She seems to be concentrating, unaware of her own facial expressions.

After some minor issues with the zipper, she's struggling even more with the button. Sweat, like tiny diamonds, starts to glitter on her forehead.

She's biting her lip so hard now, I'm worried about bloodshed.

I take her hands just as she undoes the button. They're trembling.

"If you've never slept with a stranger before, it's okay," I reassure her. "I don't know most of the people I've slept with, and it's the same mechanics as when you know somebody. You just run the risk of finding out that they're unstable afterward and you need to get a restraining order."

"Oh, it's... it's not the part where you're a stranger," she says. "That is... unexpected, though. And I don't think that last bit is helpful."

"See, you know me already. Unexpected and unhelpful."

She snorts, but she still looks like she's expected to perform surgery. I'm so goddamn hard, I'd rather fuck her than talk, but I was both blessed and cursed with two sisters, and I know I'd tear out the throat of any man that didn't notice their discomfort.

"I'll just let you rest," I say, standing up and ignoring the strain in my pants. "Do you need anything? A drink? Food?”

"No, don't go," she says, taking my hand. Her hands feel impossibly small compared to mine. "I'm just nervous because—I've never done this before."

"Had sex with a stranger?"

“No. Well, yes. But I haven’t slept with anyone that I know either. I’ve been... a lot’s been going on in my life."

I smirk, waiting for her to laugh or at least smile, but her expression is more of a challenge than stand-up comedy.

“Every man in the city must be trying to get a chance with you." I slowly move a piece of blonde hair away from her eyes. “Is it for religious reasons?”

"No," she flushes. "I've never had a boyfriend. Like you said, I can be difficult. Maybe men don't like that."

"I never said I didn't like it." I turn to zip my pants. My cock is so fucking hard, every move feels like death. "I'll let you rest."

"Wait." She grabs my arm. "I didn't say I didn't want to do this."

---