The kiss transforms and becomes another. And this kiss, this kiss is passion, so much passion, and tenderness. We savor each other, this time that somehow feels as if it’s all the time we have, despite every promise we’ve made that there will be more, so much more. We undress each other. His T-shirt goes first, and my hands instantly seek the heat of his skin, the taut muscle of his hard body. I press him to his back again and he lets me, his body flexing beneath my touch, my mouth, my hands exploring his body.
My T-shirt goes next, and he does the same to me. Now I’m on my back and his mouth and tongue are on my nipples, teasing me, driving me wild. Soon we’re naked in every possible way. I feel that. I feel how exposed and raw we are together and it doesn’t scare me. We kiss. We touch. And when I burn for him to be inside me, plead with him even, he doesn’t give me what I want. He slows us down. I’m on my back all over again and his hand is under my backside, squeezing as he nips at my lips.
“I need to know how you taste.”
“I’m pretty sure you already know,” I whisper.
“Not here,” he says, brushing his lips over my lips. “All over. All of you.”
And then he’s sliding low, trailing his mouth downward to my belly, feathering kisses there, teeth scraping my hipbone, and sending shivers through my body. He owns me in this moment in time, and I don’t try to hide it. I moan. I arch into his touch. I reach for him and the ache between my legs becomes almost unbearable.
And then he’s there, right there, in the most intimate place on my body, between my thighs, his breath a warm fan on my sex, heat that promises all that I want, forever it seems. My fingers tangle in the dark soft strands of his hair, a silent plea. Almost as if that’s what he was waiting for, his tongue flickers over my clit, a quiet touch there and gone that has me gasping, craving more.
“Adrian,” I pant out, and then he’s suckling me, drawing on me, driving me wild. His fingers caress the wet heat of my sex, and then they slide inside me, stretching me, stroking me. Sensation after sensation tingles through me, controls me—he controls me, while I have no control at all. The truth is that it’s been forever since I’ve been so intimate with anyone and he is not just anyone. The room fades in and out, and too soon, embarrassingly soon, I tumble into release, shuddering against his tongue, my sex clenching around his fingers.
And when it’s over, he’s right there, sliding up my body, leaning over me, his mouth on my mouth, the salty taste of me on his tongue. He rolls us to our sides, facing each other, stroking the hair from my face. “I could die a happy man right now,” he whispers.
“Don’t say that,” I chide, fingers tangling roughly in his hair. “You don’t get to die. Ever.”
His lips curve and he eases back to look at me. “Ever?”
“Ever,” I repeat. “Never.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Pri,” he promises, kissing me again, our bodies swaying, a sultry, sexy dance that is so much more than sex. It’s slow, it’s somehow luxurious and dirty, all at once.
We ride that passion all the way to the shudders and shakes of our bodies, and then we collapse into each other, loose-limbed and sated. Long after the dampness has gathered on my legs, we stay there, just holding each other. It’s Adrian, who moves first, kissing my head as he says, “I’ll get you a towel.”
Naked and oh so beautiful, he walks to the bathroom, returning quickly with the promised towel. He grabs his pants and pulls them on. “Just in case we have to move quickly.”
“Right,” I say, and I hate that he’s right. I hate that we’re in a safe house. It’s a cold, hard return to the reality that people, perhaps lots of people, are trying to kill us. Some part of me, perhaps for the first time, fears that this is not a battle we can win. And yet, how can we afford to lose?
I quickly dress as well, and I’m sitting on the bed when Adrian sits down beside me, right beside me, our legs pressed close. His hand settles warmly, even possessively, on my thigh. “You’re not swimming alone with the sharks.”
Adrian is the first person in my life who has ever made me feel his presence, really feel it, inside and out. I touch his face, fingers trailing over his goatee, before sliding away. “You aren’t either. You know that, right?”
“About that.”