Page 35 of Light in the Dark
"Don't you dare apologize, Ember. I don't know what you went through, but it was obviously traumatic." I pause, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind the curve of her ear. "I'm honored to have been there for you. And if you want to talk about it, I'd love to listen for as long as you want to talk."
“You're sweet." She inhales deeply, holds it, lets it out. "Is it okay if I'm not quite ready yet?"
"Absolutely."
She licks her lips, bites the corner of her lower lip, searching my face. Lifts a hand and hesitantly rests it on my cheek. "I'll tell you everything, Felix, I promise. It's just hard. It's still pretty fresh, and—and I'm trying to convince myself that this is okay."
"That what's okay?" I ask.
“This." She rests her other arm on my shoulder, her fingers toying with the shaggy hair at my nape. "You. Me. This thing, whatever it is."
It hurts to put these words out there because they're the opposite of what I want, but it feels like the right thing to say. "There doesn't have to be a thing, Ember. If you're not ready, you're not ready."
She sniffs a laugh and gives me a lopsided smile. "Fee, I'm sitting on your lap. There's a thing. I just…I want you to know I'm trying."
"And I just want you to know that there’s no pressure, no expectations, nothing. I'm here for you. I'll help you with your van and you can stay with me—there are no strings."
She gazes at me, palm on my cheek, thumb brushing back and forth beneath my eye. "Felix, I…"
Her pink lips are plump and close, damp from her tongue sliding across them, parted, begging to be kissed. Moving slowly, I cradle the back of her head and lean in.
"Tell me not to kiss you, Ember," I breathe.
Her eyes are wide and bright and restless, her breath on my lips. "I can't," she whispers.
"You can't kiss me, or you can't tell me not to?" I ask.
"The second one."
"Fuck," I hiss.
She peers at me. "What?"
"You should have said no."
"Why? I thought you wanted to."
"I do."
"Then what?"
"I'll never be able to fucking stop."
I close the distance between us, and her lips are wet and warm and soft, and her mouth immediately opens for me. She whimpers quietly at this first kiss, and the sound is a live wire sending a hundred thousand volts through my body. She's so fucking soft in my arms, and her mouth is pliant and eager, her tongue dancing with mine. She leans into me, crushing the firm weight of her tits against my chest, and suddenly I'm hyperaware of the fact that she's sitting on my lap, and the curved spread of her ass is nestled over my groin.
I growl hungrily, pulling her closer and tilting my head to take the kiss deeper yet, and she responds in kind, bringing both hands to the back of my head, fingers diving into my hair at my nape and pulling me to her mouth. She's been sitting sideways on my lap, legs pointing perpendicular to the rest of me; now, she sweeps her leg over me to straddle me, humming an aroused groan as she feels my erection wedge against her ass.
I can't stop myself from grinding against her, can't keep my hands from carving down her back, from cupping the taut weight of her ass. She lifts to her knees, allowing me full access—I take advantage greedily, growling with aroused appreciation as I fill my hands with her ass. And my good god, what an ass. So full, so round—big, plump, firm, and fucking perfect. I claw into the soft swell of muscle over the denim, smooth my hands down to the tender silk of her thighs just below the rough denim and fraying hem, curling my hands inside between her thighs and up, and then grip the weight of it again.
She presses against me, clutching my hair and bending over me, kissing me at a downward angle, now framing my jaw to tip my head up. She sits down on me, grinding on my cock—making me ache and throb; I'm bent inside my jeans at a painful, awkward angle. I grunt in pain as she grinds against me desperately, and I'm forced to tilt my hips up to push her up and then sink back down and shove my hand in to adjust myself.
She moans, sliding down to sit lower on my thighs, digging her hands under my shirt to rake her fingertips down my chest and abs. Huffing into my mouth, nipping my lip between her teeth, Ember rips my fly open and yanks the zipper apart, cupping me where I spring into the opening.
"Fuck," I snarl. "Ember—Jesus."
My words break the spell.
She shoves away and lurches to her feet, staggering across the deck to slump over the railing, shoulders heaving as she pants raggedly. "Holy shit," she whispers. "What the fuck just happened?"
