Page 143 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

I’m losing control by the time he gets to the chorus. The lyrics flash before my eyes, tugging at my heartstrings and self-control.

You’re not mine.

And that’s okay.

But I’ll still care.

From far away.

You’re not mine.

And that’s okay.

But I’m still yours.

Now and always.

The moment the chorus ends, he drags his tongue up my slit and curls his fingers faster, allowing me to come all over his face.

And I do.

I come so hard I disconnect from my body, convulsing and reaching a level of pleasure I’m worried the human body can’t sustain.

I’m trying to steady my breathing for dear life, but all I can do is watch as my chest heaves furiously. I’m sure I’ve peaked until he scrapes his teeth against my clit a final time and takes me even higher than before, my juices dripping between my ass cheeks.

I can barely hold myself up, my orgasm fading and taking my strength with it. The arm I was leaning on flinches, and that seems to be Kane’s cue to slide my legs off his shoulders.

That just happened.

I knew I was naked while he had his face between my legs, but I wasn’t as aware of it as I am now. Is this the moment where I gather my clothes, dignity, and pride off the floor and run?

What exactly is a girl supposed to do after being given a mind-blowing orgasm on a piano?

I can tell he’s taken notice of my inner dialogue because he steps forward, grips my chin in one hand, and places a hard kiss on my mouth.

Next thing I know, he’s pulling me back into his arms like I’m weightless, wrapping my legs around his waist and walking out of the room.

I’m butt naked in the hallway. Drea and Scar could see Kane carrying me if they just opened their bedroom doors. I’ve never felt so vulnerable.

I circle his neck with my arms, leaning forward to whisper, “What are you doing?”

He positions his mouth next to my ear, his voice packed with need and bad intentions. “You didn’t think I was done with you, did you?”

HADLEY

Kane drops me onto his bed a beat later, luring a small gasp from my lips when my back hits the mattress with a thud.

I grip the blanket as if to brace myself for whatever he has planned. My chest is rising with erratic pants, and I look up at him, waiting for his next move.

I expected him to pick up right where we left off, but he doesn’t move, standing perfectly still at the end of the bed, dark strands of hair falling in front of his hungry eyes as he drinks in my naked body.

My heart is pounding furiously in my chest, the crushing tension in the air anchoring me into place. I still haven’t recovered from the insane orgasm he gave me in the sunroom, but when he lowers his gaze to the sweet spot between my legs, my thighs clench.

For the love of God, I just came.

How can I still be this desperate for his touch?

“Didn’t have enough, did we?” His raspy voice is like liquid heat dripping down my body.

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