Page 67 of Melodies that Bind
Raina doesn’t miss a beat. “We’re going to make out,” she deadpans.
“Wait for me!” he yells after us, before quickly following. He’s impossible.
Raina giggles. “Sorry, Nashy. This is Blake time. I’ll cuddle you later,” she yells, tugging me along behind her as we run for her room.
The door clicks shut behind us, and the noise of the house drops away, replaced by our breath and the distant popping of corn. I lean against the door, heart pounding, and Raina crosses the space between us until there’s only a breath between our bodies. “Just us,” she says, and her voice is a promise.
My entire world narrows to that.
If I ever believed silence was empty, I was an idiot. In the hush of her room, every heartbeat is a loaded gun, and every brush of Raina’s fingertips is a match striking somewhere beneath my skin. She leans into me with her total weight, her body a warm, tense promise against my chest.
She looks up at me, lashes fanned out, and for a second I can’t breathe. I’m not sure if I want to kiss her or fall to my knees and worship her, or both. Raina’s hand cups the back of my neck,her thumb drawing lazy circles right below my hairline, and it’s the smallest, simplest contact, but it makes my brain misfire. “You’re thinking too hard,” she whispers, and the warmth of her breath curls into my ear.
“My bad,” I whisper, my hands gliding from her hips, under her shirt, and to her waist.
Raina presses her forehead to mine, and her lips ghost over my mouth, a hover that’s more intimate than a kiss. “Let’s go slow,” she says, but she’s already reaching for the hem of my shirt, fingers sliding underneath. “If you want to.”
We’ve been here many times. Often with Nash joining, encouraging us along, sometimes coaching. Then there’re times when we’ve been alone, getting closer and closer to the line where my fears hold me back.
This is a familiar dance, and I’ll let her take the lead for now, but damn do I want her like nothing else.
I nod, afraid of what will come out if I try to speak. She peels my shirt up and off, dropping it to the floor, then runs her hands over my chest, tracing the lines of muscle with an awe that makes me want to preen, to show off, to be worthy. When she leans in again, her lips are soft and damp like she licked them a split second ago, and I melt, dissolving under her touch.
She makes a tiny sound—a whimper, maybe, or a sigh—when I thread my fingers into her hair. We topple together onto the bed, limbs tangled, and I can’t help but laugh, relief and arousal swirling into something heady. “You’re still thinking,” she accuses, eyes bright.
She’s kissing me again, swallowing all my thoughts, replacing them with her tongue, and her heat, and the grind of her hips against mine.
Somehow, Raina ends up straddling me, her thighs pinning my hips, her hands braced on my shoulders. She grins, feral, and the sight obliterates every last vestige of self-control I have left. Ireach up, running my thumbs along the line of her jaw, and she sighs, a ragged exhale that makes me impossibly hard.
“Tell me what you want,” she says, voice barely audible.
“I want to touch you,” I rasp. “Everywhere.”
Her eyes flutter shut, and she nods, but then she leans down, her mouth hot and demanding on mine. My hands roam over her back, her waist, the soft give of her ass beneath the fabric of her sleep shorts. When I slip my fingers under her shirt, she arches into me, making a needy, desperate sound that vibrates straight through my bones.
“More,” she breathes, and I oblige, pushing her shirt up to expose the curve of her breasts, the line of her stomach. She’s not wearing a bra, and the sight is almost too much… perfect pale skin, the nipples drawn tight from anticipation or maybe the cold.
I lean up, mouth finding her breast, and Raina gasps, clutching my head with both hands. I lick and suck, gently at first but emboldened by the way she presses me closer, her thighs squeezing around my torso.
She’s so soft in all the right ways. I can’t help myself, I bite the flesh of her breast, making her suck in a sharp breath. “Again,” she begs.
So I do. I bite her on the other side, giving her matching teeth marks.
She wriggles, and suddenly my sweats are uncomfortably tight, my erection straining against the thin fabric. Raina grinds down, her eyes glazed with pleasure, and the heat of her passes through two layers of clothes. “You’re driving me insane,” I mutter, voice hoarse.
“Good,” she says, shifting to rub herself more deliberately against me. The friction makes her whimper, and she buries her face in my shoulder.
I let her set the pace, let her ride the pressure until she’s panting, breath shallow, hips rocking in a steady, desperate rhythm. I slip a hand between her thighs, press my palm to her core, and she shudders. “Please,” she whispers. “Please, Blake—touch me.”
Before I know it, her shirt is in my grasp, gliding it up and over her head, then I’m flipping her over. She’s barely settled on the mattress before I’m dragging her sleep shorts down her legs along with her panties. Stripping her bare for me.
For a split second, I appreciate how soaked both garments are before tossing them aside. Raina’s legs are already open, unabashed, and I nearly choke on how beautiful she is—how much she wants to be seen.
I kneel over her and run my hands up her thighs, thumbs stroking the insides until she shivers and squirms beneath me. My mouth goes dry, and I realize I’m grinning like a lunatic. She notices, because of course she does, and arches an eyebrow at me. “What?” she teases, voice so light it barely covers the nervous shake in it.
“You’re just…” I can’t finish the sentence, so instead I lean in and kiss her, slow at first, then deeper, tasting the sweet salt of her skin as I trail my tongue down her body.
A part of me is still terrified of doing this wrong. Of not being enough for her. But I want her to know—no, to feel—how sacred this is. I let my tongue trace lazy patterns below her navel, then further, easing her thighs apart to make room for my shoulders.
