Chapter 19
19
It takes us longer to walk to the flat than it should. Our fingers interlaced, Kieran stops every few minutes to draw me into another kiss, each one growing more passionate than the last. Rushing down our road, giggling, he stops to pin me up against a tree, propping one hand over my head and leaning into me as the other urges my hips into his. His mouth smashes against mine, his tongue demanding and urgent, a low frustrated growl from his throat vibrating against my lips. He’s acting as though he’s not going to be able to wait until he gets me home and it’s so hot feeling this wanted, this desired, this needed. The road is empty, but even if there was anyone there neither of us would notice or care.
Right now, it’s just the two of us, kissing up against a tree in the rain.
His fingertips move to swirl around the bare skin of my stomach on show before making their way down over my hip bone, continuing onwards to trail along the bottom hem of my playsuit shorts. His palm warms my outer thigh as he slips it underneath the fabric.
‘Hmm, this outfit is making things difficult,’ he notes, tugging at the shorts. ‘Next time, wear a dress so it’s easy access, please.’
I laugh lightly. ‘You think I should base my outfit decisions on the off-chance someone wants me up against a tree?’
‘Not just someone,’ he grumbles, a hint of jealousy in his tone that makes my heart skip a beat. ‘Me.’
‘And what about the paps?’ I remind him, arching my eyebrows.
He glances down the road. ‘There’s no one watching.’
‘They’re good at hiding.’
‘True.’ He sighs, leaning back and grabbing my hand to pull me away from the tree. ‘Better get you back quick.’
Dragging me down the pavement to my gate, he opens the latch and holds it open for me so I can go ahead and open the door, my keys out of my bag and in my hand at the ready. He’s behind me, kissing my neck, his hands roaming down my hips as I try to concentrate on opening the door, my hand slipping, the edge of the key leaving a scratch mark around the lock.
Finally I complete the task and we’re in. He kicks the door closed behind us with his foot as he presses me up against the wall, his mouth urgently seeking mine, his hands roaming around every inch of my back, waist, hips, moving too quickly for me to know where they are at any given time. We’re kicking off our shoes, I’m unbuttoning his sodden shirt, my fingers working the buttons as efficiently as possible while he kisses the breath out of me. He helps me with the last couple of buttons of his shirt, before he peels it off, dropping it to the floor where it lands with a heavy slap against the wooden panels, the rainwater beginning to pool around it. Look at him. This bare muscular chest, these broad solid shoulders, his smooth skin glinting with moisture from the rain. I brush the palms of my hands from the centre of his chest out to roll over his shoulders, digging my nails into the curve of his bicep. Fuck. I will never get over that I get to kiss this man, that I’m lucky enough to have him all to myself right now, that he’s going to let me touch him, feel him.
While I shamelessly gawp at him, his hands move to the tie at the bottom of my playsuit plunge collar and I laugh as he grows muddled, his brow furrowed while he tugs at the ends of the knot.
‘What the—’ he says in bewilderment.
‘It doesn’t untie there,’ I inform him, admiring how sexily cute he looks when he’s confused, his eyebrows pulled together, the little creases in between them deepening.
‘Then, how do you get it off?’
‘Like this.’
He watches in wonder as, one arm at a time, I reach up to nudge the damp sleeve down my shoulder, pulling my arm free of it until the top of my playsuit is hanging around my waist. His eyes follow the slope of my collarbones to the curve of my breasts, lifted with the help of a lacy blue plunge bra. He swallows while I continue to undress myself, sliding my hands under the elasticated waist of the playsuit, widening it and shifting my hips to draw it down over my arse before I let it fall to the floor. Kieran’s eyes darken as his pupils widen.
‘There,’ I say, my voice cracking slightly under the intensity of his gaze.
‘Holy shit. That—’ he begins in a low, gravelly voice, his warm hands sliding around my waist as he brings his lips to mine to talk quietly against them ‘—was unbelievably sexy.’
He crushes his mouth against mine and, after that brief interlude for a tutorial in taking off a playsuit, the kisses ramp back up to urgent, desperate, devouring. My hands thread around the sides of his head, grasping his hair, and I let him take the lead as he wraps his arms around my waist and manoeuvres us down the hall, stumbling into the darkness of the living room. Lost in the thrill of his lips, I’m not paying attention to where we are and find myself surprised when the backs of my legs hit the sofa. Before I can think about the next move, he lifts me up to wind my legs around his waist – God I love how he does that so easily – and lowers me onto my back across the sofa, positioning himself in between my legs. My breathing is coming out in short, shallow rasps, as he finds the light switch on the wall and turns it on. He leans over me, running a hand through my damp, dishevelled hair as it splays out on the cushion around my head.
He inhales deeply through his nose, his jaw tensing.
‘You’re so sexy with your hair wet like this,’ he tells me, before he lowers his lips to graze the skin in between my breasts, nipping at the little bow at the centre of my bra with his teeth, and then slowly begins to kiss a line all the way down my stomach to the top band of my pale blue thong, the lightness of his lips covering my skin in goosebumps.
‘You have no idea how beautiful you are,’ he whispers against my skin, making my stomach tighten at the tickle of his breath. ‘All day I’ve been thinking about doing this to you.’
‘Uh-huh, sure, when you were playing in Wimbledon you were thinking about this,’ I mutter, and then wonder why the hell I’ve chosen this moment to be sarcastic when I have the sexiest man on the planet in between my legs, kissing along my hips.
Don’t question him now, Flora.He can say whatever the fuck he wants down there.
‘Why do you think I won? I had to get the match to end. The sooner it was over, the sooner I could get my hands on you, the sooner we could do this.’ He grins, his fingers inching under the flimsy fabric of my underwear. ‘Simple.’
‘Oh, so this is why you won.’
‘You are why I won,’ he corrects, and my heart somersaults. He groans as his hand slides lower and he feels how wet he’s making me. ‘Fuck.’
He swiftly removes my thong, dropping it on the floor next to the coffee table and a memory flashes across my brain of the last time this room had underwear strewn across it – when I was standing in my towel and I dropped my pants in front of his team. It almost makes me laugh how long ago that feels now, how much has happened since then. He notices me suppress the smile.
‘What are you thinking about?’ he asks intrigued.
‘Nothing.’
‘Come on,’ he insists in a low, deep voice, moving up to hover over me. ‘I know something funny just crossed your mind. You got that twinkle in your eye.’
‘I get a twinkle in my eye?’
‘When you’re amused,’ he says matter-of-factly. ‘Your eyes go all mischievous. It’s like you’re sharing a joke with yourself.’
I break into a wide smile, my heart flipping, because I love that he’s noticed things about me. Little things that others wouldn’t see or understand, or bother to know. Like he sees me in a way that no one else does. I want him to be that person for me.
I want to be that person for him.
‘So?’ he prompts, kissing the corner of my mouth gently. ‘What was it?’
‘I was thinking about the last time my underwear was dropped in here – when I was in my towel and Neil came over. I think it was the second or third morning you were here.’
‘The first,’ he corrects without a moment’s hesitation. He smiles at my look of surprise. ‘I remember it very well. You standing in that towel, the water still dripping down your neck from the shower.’ A sound of approval comes from his throat as he moves back to kiss my stomach again, just below my belly button, his stubble scratching across my skin, his hands gripping my hips. ‘I was imagining what you looked like beneath it.’ His lips move lower and heat floods through my body. ‘And now I get to know. I’m the luckiest man in the world.’
As I stare up at the ceiling, my heart is hammering out of control. His lips explore between my legs, and he takes his time to tease me with light kisses before his tongue settles in the centre and with one stroke he sends jolts of electricity racing through my body.
Lifting my arm to grasp the cushion behind me, I shut my eyes and tilt my head back, letting out a moan as I lose myself. As he moves one of his hands from my hips to sink his fingers inside me while increasing the pressure of his tongue against my clit, the sensations are almost too much for me to handle and any inhibitions are lost as I gasp and cry out his name. He groans in pleasure at my response and escalates his rhythm, and my whole body starts to tremble, my mind spinning, as the swirling heat within me builds and builds.
‘Kieran, stop,’ I manage to gasp, biting my lip and trying to make my brain work, as he does what I ask. ‘I want you. I want to come together. Please.’
He considers my request and leans forward to kiss along my collarbone and shoulder while I try to collect my senses after his lips sent them into a spin, before he leaves the room. My body is too flushed with heat for me to register how long he’s gone, but when he returns with a glint of foil in his hand, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude to have him back and impatient for more. He’s had his fun wielding the control, now it’s my turn.
As he pulls down his clothes and rolls on the condom, I swing my legs off the sofa and stand up to press my hands against his chest, moving him back to sit down, his eyes widening as I stand over him. Gripping his shoulders for support, I lift myself up to straddle him, my knees settling either side of his hips. His hands rubbing up and down my waist, he leans his head back and exhales through his nose.
‘Have I mentioned how beautiful you are?’ he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine.
I smile, running my hands over his bare chest, savouring the smooth touch of his skin beneath my fingers. ‘You’re beautiful, too. I can’t believe…’
You’re mine.
I stop myself just in time before I say it, my face flooding with heat at how close I’d come to saying something that might have scared the crap out of him. He’s not mine, not really. Maybe in this moment, maybe for tonight, but it’s too early for me to have any kind of claim to him, no matter how I feel. And I do feel. I feel so much. It’s stupid how my feelings for him are growing at an alarming rate, but with every second that passes in his company, I want more. I want to know everything about him, his feelings, his thoughts, his memories, his opinions, his dreams. Is it possible to fall this hard this soon? Am I kidding myself? Is this what people mean when they know full well that they should hold back just in case of inevitable heartbreak, but have absolutely no intention of doing so?
If he hadn’t glanced up at me during that tennis match. If it wasn’t me he was seeking out when he needed whatever he was looking for in that moment: support, confidence, courage, hope. Then, I might not let myself believe that this has the potential to be something. But I do.
When you’re in the room, there’s no one else,he said to me earlier tonight.
I hope he meant it, because I’m starting to think there might be no one else but him for me in any room ever again. It’s foolish, dangerous, downright stupid. He’s the sort of person who must have every woman he’s been with thinking like that. But there’s nothing I can do. I’m letting myself hope, because there’s no better feeling.
I can’t believe…
…you’re mine.
…we’re here.
…I’m falling.
So many ways of finishing that sentence that I have to hide from him. I wish I could read his mind, but I’m so thankful he can’t read mine. He’d run a fucking mile.
Kieran doesn’t ask me to complete the sentence, but his eyes are boring into mine as though he might have an idea. I can’t let him see the truth, so I bow my head to part his lips with my tongue, deepening the kiss enough for him to moan with frustration into my mouth, his fingernails digging into my hips. I need him inside me. I straighten and then sink slowly onto him, using his chest to balance myself as I push up and then slide further down, my breath hitching at his size as it fills me.
‘Flossie,’ he gasps, his eyes blazing as I take him in. ‘You feel incredible – fuck.’
Holding on to my hips, he helps me find a rhythm. I grow more confident – he makes me feel more confident, moaning and muttering about how sexy I am – and he moves one hand to my bra, dragging down the material to palm my breast, groaning as I tilt my head back and lose myself in… fuck it, lose myself in everything. No more thoughts about where this is going, what he means to me or what I mean to him. I don’t want to get inside my head and overthink anymore; I want to be in this moment utterly and completely.
I lose myself in the way he feels inside me, full and hard and pulsing and perfect; the way he tastes when I kiss him; the way he looks at me with those bewitching eyes like I’m it for him, whether that’s just for this moment or forever; the way he smells, the hazy scent of his cologne tonight, a scent I know will make me feel weak at the knees if I ever smell it on someone else again; and the way he’s touching me, as though he desperately wants every part of me, nothing hidden, nothing held back.
‘Oh my God, you look amazing.’ His voice is rushed and heavy, and I see him watching me with his lips parted, his eyes burning with need. ‘You’re making me close.’
His hand slides down between my legs as his breathing gets heavier, and a flare of unruly heat is sparked in the spot where his thumb begins to work. I roll my hips harder and faster, encouraged by his touch and his words, and I wish I could tell him that I’ve never had sex like this before, the kind where I’m not worrying about what I look like or trying to disguise those fears with darkness or duvets. The way he looks at me and touches me – it’s not just what he says, it’s the way he shows me – he makes me feel so hot.
‘Flossie,’ he rasps, ‘oh fuck.’
His eyes flash helplessly at me, and knowing he’s so close makes me lose all control. As I tip over the edge, I can feel him come too, in rapid jerks of his hips as he pumps deep inside me. Groaning loudly together, the ripples of pleasure flooding my body are so consuming that I would lose my balance if he wasn’t holding me in place, my limbs trembling, head spinning, heart hammering.
As we catch our breath, I collapse against him and eventually his mouth searches for mine, kissing me and breaking into a smile.
‘What?’ I ask, drawing back to look at him properly.
‘I was just thinking… it sounds stupid.’
‘Tell me,’ I beg softly.
He sighs. ‘I was just thinking, how lucky it was that I picked this flat, and how lucky I am that you decided to stay.’