Page 28 of The First Kind of Love
“You’re thinking too hard. I want this, okay? I wantyou. And before you tell me I’m being an idiot, no, you didn’t try to kill me, and no, I didn’t think the entire night was a disaster,” he reassures me, security blanketing me in a warmth unrivaled by the sun itself—a warmth that seems to cauterize my raw fears.
“I just thought…”
Fulton drops his hand and shuffles the tiniest bit closer tome, a whimper concentrated in the pit of his chest. “Please, Shi. Don’t make me beg.”
Swoon. That nickname does things to me…unladylike things.
He’s so close to me that I can practically feel the heat radiating off his body, and the implication of another closed-door date with Fulton hardens the peaks of my nipples underneath my one-piece. “I would love a redo,” I acquiesce, watching—or more like torturing myself—as his tongue sweeps the seam of his perfect, plump lips.
“That’s amazing, because I really don’t think I could handle getting rejected by you when you look like that.”
“Like what?”
He groans, then pulls me in by my waist so I’m flush against his chest. “Like you’re the most beautiful girl who’s ever graced this planet.”
Emboldened by his flattery, I can’t help but snort. “I think you may be exaggerating.”
“Not even a little bit,” he declares, tiptoeing his fingers up the curves of my sides, his woodsmoke voice burning a hole of anticipation straight through my belly.
I want to kiss him so badly right now. Ineedto kiss him. And judging by the cut of his jaw, the straining of his arms, and the desperation entrenched in his darkening eyes, he needs his very own pick-me-up. He’s limned in a striation of warm hues beneath a marbled sky, beads of sweat shimmering over the planes of his muscles, his impeccable bone structure contoured by sun-cast shadows.
“I know I’m not normally good at communicating my feelings, but with you, I don’t have that problem at all. You bring out this side of me that I never even knewexistedbefore. When I’m around you, it feels like I’m experiencing life for the very first time again. I’m not ready to give that up yet,” he explains.
My traitorous eyes stall on his lips as hellfire blusters through my veins, and I’m no longer thinking about the logisticsof my loveless future. No, I’m thinking about right here, right now, and selfishly, whatIwant for a change.
“I know exactly what you mean. When we kissed, I felt like I could finally catch my breath. Nothing else mattered in the moment except you. And my brain’s pretty much in a constant state of anxiety, so it’s rare when the world goes quiet.”
“Do you need to catch your breath again?” he asks, ducking his head down so my face is only a few inches from his mouth—from finally being able to breathe clean, fresh air unsullied by a thick swath of smog.
I rise to my tiptoes, teasing him with the humble beginnings of a kiss. “Yeah, I think I do.”
9
FULTON: ONE, ORAL VIRGINITY: ZERO
FULTON
We stumble into the hotel room, my arm flailing behind me as the door slams shut with a wall-shaking thud. Ever since I saw Shiloh in that ridiculously sexy one-piece jogging over to meBaywatch-style, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I didn’t expect her to agree to a date redo, nor did I expect her to let me kiss her again, but now I’m in another love-lust predicament that’s captured my not-so-subtle erection as a prisoner of war.
I’m way in over my head; I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. All I know is that I’m a mere mortal kneeling before a deity, and I’d make a religion in her name if it meant that I got the privilege of tasting her.
She stamps kisses all over my lips, sloppily nips at the stretch of skin beneath my jaw, and pretty much makes me lose my vice-like grip on all my faculties. She’s ravaging me like an ambush predator that’s waited for this exact moment to strike, and the thought of sinking my canines into her and marking my territory flashes across my hindbrain. The thin skin of her neck, the meat of her inner thighs, the breasts that now jut out prominently beneath her mouthwatering valley of cleavage. Allmy thoughts are cobbled together in this giant mess that’s been commandeered by animalistic instinct.
Even though I don’t want to, I break for air, panting. “Are you sure?” I ask, my fingers furled into her sides in an effort to keep my legs steady.
She nods, smushing her tits against my chest, her pebbled nipples poking through the flimsy, nylon fabric that’s been testing my self-restraint all day. God, I’m about to lose it—my mind, my load, everything. The longer I play with the swimsuit that cling wraps to her figure, the stronger the insatiable ache in my groin becomes. Her silky skin sparkles in the midday sun, a flawless canvas that I need to chart with my hands and tongue—that I need to shower in a hailstorm of hickeys.
“I’m sure,” she says breathlessly, her tongue caressing mine in a breakneck rush, and her hands pawing helplessly at my hair before she manages to tangle her fingers in the strands. When she yanks hard enough to crick my neck, she invites me deeper into her mouth, hunger and desperation building a crescendo that vibrates through my lower belly. I accept the access greedily—a broken groan tearing through my throat—and I bear the brunt of our combined weight against the wall.
Shit. This is really happening. Okay, calm down, Fulton. Relax. You’ve got this. Don’t overthink it. Just communicate with her. Oh my God. What if I blow in my pants before I even get her undressed?
I keep my hands on her waist out of respect, but they itch to slip to the R-rated parts of her, to grab the bottom of her butt and knead the doughy flesh with my fingers. But in my pitiful, hilariously unfortunate case, worry works as swiftly as unfettered impulse.
I pull away for the second time, unable to ignore the little voice in the back of my head that heeds me to proceed with caution. “I’ve never been intimate with anyone like this before. I don’t know how to…”
Shiloh’s face falls. “How to…?”
Hesitation takes precedence over the conversation, and I hate that I’m even considering an alternate reality where I’m not in some Shiloh-kiss coma for the rest of the night. Despite my cock straining against my swim trunks, her comfort is more important.
