Page 147 of Cerulean Truth
He took a deliberate second to answer, the silence intensifying the tension between us.
“I don’t think…” he hesitated, his eyes never leaving mine, “you really want me to.”
The magnetic pull was undeniable, drawing us together like an invisible force. All my anger vanished, leaving behind a scintillating feeling of anticipation, making it impossible to resist him. I was panting, his scent invigorating, and I could barely think, let alone speak.
My heart pounded so loudly, I was afraid he could hear.
He leaned in. “Tell me you want me to go, and I will,” he promised softly, his voice a seductive whisper, deliberately close to my ear.
His breath touched my neck, sending a tingling sensation along my spine. The vulnerability of the moment overwhelmed me, and my legs practically gave out. It was all I could do to close my eyes and lean into him, surrendering to the intoxicating thirst that defined the space between us.
He cupped my chin and made me look up at him. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll leave,” he reiterated, staring in my eyes soprofoundly I was sure he could detect all my carefully masked desires.
“I’ll leave you be, forever,” he insisted. His gaze flickered across my face, searching for an answer, questioning me with his eyes.
I could not utter a word.
He closed in, his lips almost touching mine, brushing them softly when he repeated, "Just tell me to stop."
A moan escaped, all my resolve evaporating.
I practically smashed into him, my lips so hungry for his, it felt like an insatiable craving. He groaned and responded by pressing me firmly against the wall, his body flush against mine, grounding me in his heat. His mouth was demanding, his tongue seeking entrance, claiming me with a possessive urgency that left me breathless. He deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking mine expertly, leaving no doubt about what else he could do with it.
Tasting him was like tasting something forbidden, a flavor so intoxicating it unhinged me completely, making it impossible to think of anything else but the way he felt pressed against me, consuming me.
In a desperate attempt to keep him close, I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him even closer. A primal fear seized me, a raw instinct warning he'd disappear if I let go. I needed to feel every inch of him, aching for a relief only he could give. With each heartbeat, my need surged, each passing second drawing me deeper into him.
His lips moved to my neck, leaving a trail of heat as they did, and I instinctively cocked my head sideways, offering him better access. In the whirlwind of desire, I lost myself completely, my soft moans of his name escaping me repeatedly like a fervent prayer.
Abruptly, he stopped, pulling himself away with a shuddering breath, his hand braced against the wall to steady himself. His chest rose and fell heavily, his eyes so dark with hunger they were barely recognizable, smoldering as they held mine. “Fuck, Emma,” he whispered, his voice rough, like he was struggling to regain control.
The pause between us felt electric, charged, his gaze sweeping over me as though he were memorizing every inch, drinking me in as if I were the only thing anchoring him. His eyes traced my face, lingering on my lips, leaving me breathless under the weight of his attention.
Then, he crashed his lips onto mine again, a relentless urgency in the way he kissed me. His hands roamed over me with a fevered intensity, tracing the curve of my waist, sliding up my back, then pressing me closer as if he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between us.
He lifted me up, his strong, well-formed arms securely holding me in place. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist, never breaking the coupling of our lips. His fingers dug into my skin, pulling me into him, his touch rough yet deliberate, each movement sparking a new wave of desire through me. Every stroke of his hands, every press of his lips, seemed to reflect his desperation, his need raw and unrestrained, matching the longing for more that pulsed through me in perfect sync.
The physical manifestation of his desire was evident, igniting an equal ache within me, and in that moment, I realized I was craving him more than anything else I had ever wanted in life.
I had never known lust like this, a burning so intense it seemed to scorch within me like a wildfire, yearning for release. The heat of the moment was suffocating, a blaze of passion engulfing me, leaving me gasping and craving.
“James, I need you,” I whispered, my voice trembling with raw need, pulling him impossibly closer. He responded with alow, guttural groan, his mouth claiming mine as his kiss grew deeper, more demanding. His tongue moved against mine with a practiced intensity, each stroke sending a pulse of pleasure through me, unraveling me until I was delirious with want.
He broke away again, just enough to catch his breath, his gaze heavy with dark hunger as he looked at me. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he growled. Then, as if the words themselves had unleashed him, he captured my mouth again, his kiss fierce and consuming. My fingers traced over the hard lines of his muscular frame, exploring every inch I could reach, memorizing the shape of him.
“You’re driving me insane.” His words barely a whisper against my lips. His hands moved urgently, slipping beneath my clothes, his touch setting my skin aflame wherever he touched, as if nothing less than this could satisfy the relentless need building between us.
My heart hammered, each beat a pulse that seemed to echo through my entire body, settling in a deep ache low in my belly. The throbbing between my thighs grew unbearable, a pulsing need that left me breathless. I felt a slick warmth gather, the heat only intensifying with every brush of his fingers on my skin, every press of his lips against mine. His touch left a trail of tingling awareness, making me hyper-sensitive, my body responding to him in ways I couldn’t control.
When his fingers finally found my breasts, I let out a soft gasp, my skin tingling under his touch. He cupped me, his hands warm and firm, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, teasingly at first, then with a firmer pressure that made them harden instantly under his touch.
A fresh wave of need tightened in me, my clit throbbing, aching for more, for him, for anything that could release the tension coiling tighter with every second. My hips arched towardhim instinctively, desperate to close the space between us, desperate to feel more.
“Ahum,” someone coughed.
The abrupt interruption pierced through our sex-crazed vibe.
James went still, his body tense, the intimate spell between us abruptly broken. We turned around slowly, the weight of the interruption settling over us like a splash of cold water, only to find Maurice standing a few feet away, watching us with a wide, unapologetic grin.
