Chapter 23 KELSEY GOES UNDER
Chapter 23
K ELSEY G OES U NDER
I’m completely lost in Zachery, and he’s about to kiss me.
I’ve never felt like this. The desire cuts so deep that I feel infinite, like there’s a chasm only he can fill.
I presumed that he would be masterful. That’s why he was the perfect person to ask. Experienced. Careful. Considerate.
I wasn’t prepared for the demands. The instructions. His expectation that I’ll comply.
But I will. Oh, yes, I will.
He takes ages to kiss me. His chocolate eyes are on me, meeting my gaze, focusing on my lips as he runs a thumb over them.
They part for him without a request. I have a feeling the rest of me will, too.
My skin tingles everywhere. The tops of my ears, which he brushed when he pushed back my hair. My breasts, which he handled so delicately only a moment ago. My mouth, where he continues his exploration.
My thighs, which are bare against his khaki pants.
I’m spread wide over his lap, and the cool air hits parts of me that ache for what we’re about to do. It seems impossible that nothing worked a short time ago.
He keeps looking at me like I’m a perfect gift, his finger on my collarbone. He brushes against my skin with the back of his hand, letting his knuckles bump across a nipple.
“Exquisite,” he says.
I’m so ready to be kissed, to be devoured.
But he’s in no hurry. He shifts my hair completely behind my shoulders so nothing can be hidden from his hungry gaze.
Then, and only then, does his hand cup the back of my head, and at last, he draws my face to him.
His lips are gentle, only the softest brush. I shiver, overwhelmed by the light touch and the need for more.
But he doesn’t allow me to press in. He holds me where he wants me, the feathery kiss achingly slow. I tingle from my eyebrows to my ankles.
It goes on and on before he finally pulls me closer. My bare chest meets his cool, smooth shirt. His lips claim my mouth with pressure and heat. His tongue finds mine, and I feel like I’m falling into him.
I’m not the chasm. It’s him, an abyss where I can lose myself, let go. I can fall and fall.
His face is smooth, and I lift my hand to his cheek. He must have shaved before we went to the fair. The scent of his layered colognes envelops me. There is nothing else but his face, his mouth, his tongue, the smooth shirt, and his hand on my neck.
Then I really am falling. He turns us, laying me back on the cool blue bedspread. It smells of fabric softener, a spring breeze.
The scent of him and the bedding commingle and I feel high, like I’m on a cloud. I want to rush forward, for him to be inside me, but I also want to hover, suspended in this sharp anticipation.
My hair spreads across the pillow. Zachery kneels over me, his mouth still on mine. But his hands move, back to a breast, encircling it as though his fingers were designed to cup it just like this.
Then his hand moves down, his thumb making its way to the hollow at the side of my waist.
I shiver again.
He breaks the kiss, moving down my jaw to my neck.
Then lower, his other hand reverently holding a breast in place for his mouth to take in.
My back arches. I’m utterly lost in him, in this moment. There is nothing else. No comparing this feeling to Simon beneath the bleachers. Or any other time that came before.
He takes his time. His exploration is thorough. Liquid heat pools between my thighs, anxious for him to reach it.
His hair tickles my belly as he makes his way down. It’s achingly slow, and I resist the urge to grab his head and shove him there.
He reaches my belly button and lightly nips the skin below it. There would have been a hairline there, but I got rid of it all this morning in the hotel.
That feels like a lifetime ago.
“Spread your legs,” he demands, and I instantly comply, forcing my knees wide.
It’s intoxicating, seeing his dark head down low, his brown eyes gazing up at me.
He locks his attention on my face as his tongue makes its first long, leisurely lick.
My head kicks back, my eyes closed. Tremors dart through me, making my legs shake and my belly quiver.
But Zachery is only getting started. He grasps both thighs and spreads me more, diving more deeply inside.
I lose all sense of space and time, riding the waves of pleasure. My body can’t stop responding, tightening, letting go, like small orgasms leading to something bigger.
“Zachery!” I cry when he adds fingers to his tongue.
And then a wave hits me like the ocean slamming into my back. I’m taken under, the world muffled, like I’ve fallen into the chasm I first sensed when we began.
My body is pure light, and the jagged bolts of energy take over. Everything in me pulses with the joy of it. Tears leak from my eyes.
It feels unending, the emotion, the pleasure, the intensity.
Then slowly, I recognize the feel of his hair again. Then the pressure of his head against my thigh. Then his breath, now on my skin, and his fingers, slowly and carefully withdrawing from my body.
And I cry, dark, jagged gulps of sorrow. What was that? Is this what an orgasm is supposed to be like?
I’ve never felt anything like that before.
Zachery slides into place beside me, cradling my head against his chest. I hold on to him like he’s the only refuge in the storm.
I don’t know why I’m crying, but something has cracked inside me. Love. Lust. Pain. Beauty. It’s all jumbled.
“Fix it,” I gasp against his cheek. “Be inside me. I want you in me.”
He nods, and I help him out of his shirt and unfasten the pants he still wears.
I look with wonder at his body, the sculpted abs and hard-planed stomach.
He’s stiffly at attention, and I hold him in both hands, filled with awe at this part of him that has never been a concern in all the years we’ve been friends.
And, oh, how I want it.
I swear I won’t regret it.