Page 36 of Keeping Kasey
“I can’t imagine why,” she says with a delighted smile.
“Let me help,” I whisper, dipping down to brush my lips against hers. “It started around four in the morning.”
My lips skate over Kasey’s skin, and her shoulders shake with a delectable shudder.
“I couldn’t sleep and spent two hours trying before I gave up and went to the basement gym,” I murmur against her skin,reveling in the floral scent that clings to her. It’s a distinct smell that I might be able to name if I knew anything about flowers—I don’t, so all I know is that it’s quickly becoming my favorite scent.
“After an hour, I still had energy to burn, so I went for a run around the estate at sunrise.”
I plant kisses across her collarbone, alternating between swipes of my tongue and the gentle pull of her soft skin between my teeth.
Her gasp is a thrilling sound I commit to memory.
“Two laps later, I realized that wasn’t going to work either, so I gave up and came inside.” My hands lightly grip Kasey’s hips, and she relaxes against the door—againstme.
“Then, in walks the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” I tell her, “and suddenly, I knewexactlyhow to work off the energy.”
“Hmm,” she hums. “And you thought ordering me to your bed was the way to achieve that goal?”
I take my time before answering, still nipping at her. “Were you under the impression I was a gentleman?”
“Gentleman? No. Civilized human? Also no. Right now, I’m thinking ‘mangy dog’ would be an insult to canines everywhere.”
I laugh, soaking in the taste, scent, and feel of her.
I doubt she’ll let me anywhere near her after this.
“And what does it say about you that you still want me?” I ask.
“Who says I do?”
“Your body, for starters.” I emphasize the point by swiping my tongue across the hollow of her throat.
Kasey shudders, body melting into mine, whether she wants it to or not.
Her gasp morphs into a hum when I place one last kiss on her neck and pull away.
"Your body doesn’t just act like it wants me”—my eyes drop to take in my absolute masterpiece—“it looks like it’s already mine.”
One beat of silence.
Two.
Three.
My awe and satisfaction increase tenfold as her face turns ghostly white with realization.
“You didn’t,” she whispers.
She shoves me out of the way and races to the bathroom mirror. Her horrified gasp is music to my ears as she takes in my work of art.
“What have you done?”
The dark red and purple swirls of fresh hickeys line her collarbone—some still shining from where my tongue brushed over them. I left five, but only three are deep enough to last.
It’ll probably take a few days for those to clear up.
As sweet as victory tastes, it pales in comparison to Kasey—and I decide marking her is my new favorite pastime.
