Page 22 of Absinthe Dreams
We tumble to the floor in a tangle of limbs, with me sprawled on top of him. Before I can even adjust to this new reality—the chair knocked on its side, his hard body beneath mine—his lips are on mine.
I gasp into his mouth, and then we're rolling. I'm no longer sprawled across his chest. I'm pinned beneath him, his strong arms the only thing keeping me off the cool tiles. His mouth moves over mine, his lips soft and demanding at the same time.
He kisses me as if I'm his biggest fantasy and favorite reward simultaneously. One moment, he's wild, his tongue stroking against mine in a way that leaves me breathless and dizzy. The next, he's soft and sweet, nibbling at my lips as if he wants to memorize every single gasp and whimper.
My hands slide up his back before plunging into his hair, trying to hold him right there so he can't ever stop kissing me. I've wanted this for so damn long. I don't even care that we're on the kitchen floor. I don't care that my dress is covered in dirt. I care about the way he growls and licks into my mouth again and again, annihilating every fantasy I've ever had.
This reality outstrips all of them by miles because it's real. It's me and him—his body over mine, his hands on me, his taste on my tonguereal.
"Christ, Coco," he growls, dragging my bottom lip between his teeth as I lock my legs around his waist, trying to keep him right there. Except forright thereshifts as soon as I do. It places his very obvious erection right up against my sex.
I throw my head back, choking on his name.
"Yeah, you feel that, don't you?" he asks, burying his face against my throat. His teeth sink into my skin in a tiny bite. "You feel exactly what you do to me."
"Yes. God, yes." My nails dig into his arms as I rock beneath him, desperate and needy…aching in a way only he's ever made me ache. The hard ridge of his erection rides against my clit every time I move, sending waves of pleasure pinging through my body.
I'm right there—literally right freakingthere—when he stops suddenly, jerking his hips away from me like I burned him.
I cry out at the loss, not sure if I want to beg or commit murder. Both sound like good options right now.
"No, princess," he rasps, pressing his lips against mine in a hard kiss. "I'm not fucking you for the first time on the goddamn kitchen floor. You aren't coming for me on the tiles."
"I don't care where we are!" I cry.
"Too bad." He bites my neck again, hauling me up into his arms. "Because I care, Chloe. You deserve more than a quick fuck on the kitchen floor."
He's not going to give me what I want. Even after everything, he's shutting me down, pulling back. He still can't color outside the damn lines for me.
My heart screams in protest, threatening to shatter.
I open my mouth to tell him to let me go or to go to hell, I'm not sure which.
"The first time I'm in you, it'll be in the bed where you were touching yourself last night," he rasps before I can say anything.
I blink. And then blink again.
"W-what?"
"You heard me." He hauls me closer, rising to his knees above me. Pulling me up with him. His eyes lock with mine, burning with intensity and intent. "The first time I'm in you, it'll be inthe bed where you got yourself off moaning my name last night. The next time you have that perfect little hand between your legs, you'll smell me on your sheets. I want you drowning in me and memories of what we did while you're making yourself come next time."
Oh.
Oh. My. God.
Hope blooms where desolation just tried to take root, his words ripping through me with the force of a bomb. And I don't have a single thing to say in response as he tucks me against his chest and storms out of the kitchen, breakfast forgotten on the table.
Chapter Six
Trystan
Idon't know whatthe fuck I'm doing by the time I carry Chloe to her room and kick the door closed behind us. I've been running on pure adrenaline and desperation since I heard her moaning my name last night.
I don't intend to stop now. Wherever this leads, wherever we land…I'm not stopping now. Not after what she said in thekitchen. Not after hearing her crying out for me last night. Fuck what anyone else thinks at this point. The only thing that matters is what we think.
And I think if I'm not inside her soon, I'm going to lose my mind. I know she's right there with me, ache for fucking ache. She's trembling in my arms, her eyes wide and dilated.
She looks like a pretty little firecracker, all smoke and flame, ready to detonate. But when she does, it won't be because of some fantasy of me her mind conjured up. It'll be because of me. Because of my hands on her body, my lips, my tongue. My cock.
