Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
KAI
Amelie didn’t argue when I held her hand as we walked back to the house. I pushed the back door open, letting her inside. My hand found the doorframe. I forced myself to walk through the door at a normal pace. It took effort.
We can stay a little longer if you want.
Amelie fucked up. She gave me an inch, but I was going to take the whole nine yards.
I didn’t turn on the overhead light as we entered the living room. Amelie turned to face me.
She was already regretting her decision to stay. I could see it in her eyes because I couldn’t hide the hungry gleam in mine.
She retreated a step. “Kai—” she said, voice barely above a whisper.
My hands found her face before she could finish saying my name. I kissed her the way she never let me. Her palms hit my chest, and she pushed. I let her. She pushed again. I let her do that, too. Then her shoulders found the wall.
Her hands moved to my wrists and held them there. She tore her mouth from mine. “No, Kai.”
I kissed her jaw and tugged down her scrubs for better access to her neck. “You wanted to stay back.”
“This isn’t what I meant by staying back,” she protested.
I pinned her to the wall with my body, my face less than an inch from hers.
“Kai, enough!”
But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
“I can’t stop.” My voice was hoarse with lust. There had been breadcrumbs of her softening toward me. She wanted to stay longer. She wanted me. But perhaps she was scared after our last time together.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I said, keeping perfectly still. “It won’t be like last night. I’ll be gentle.” I didn’t want to scare her off with the sheer force of my need for her.
She didn’t seem convinced, shaking her head against my neck. She went numb when my hand slipped under her shirt.
I hated how she froze whenever I touched her.
Everything about her posture was tense. The way her shoulders hunched burned my insides.
She wasn’t a woman in the throes of pleasure but one headed to the guillotine.
She acted like sleeping with me was an act of martyrdom.
She was sacrificing her body to save her family and to give him the life he wanted.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t stand the idea of going another fucking minute without touching her.
I nuzzled my nose against her hair and closed my eyes at the intoxicating scent of jasmine.
I pulled the shirt over her head, letting it drop on the floor.
I unclasped her bra, which made her cover her bare breasts with her hands.
She held her breath, eyes on the floor. I pushed her feeble hands out of the way to explore her breasts before tracing my fingertips over her soft stomach.
Slowly, I knelt on the floor, dragging her polyester scrubs and panties down around her ankles. She tried to turn sideways, hiding from me, but I gripped her thighs and widened her stance.
“Kai, please, stop,” she whispered, though she knew I had every right to touch her.
I forced her legs apart, burying my face between her thighs.
Amelie made a strangled noise of protest when my tongue slid over her.
I closed my eyes. I loved drinking her from the source, I loved not giving her a choice but to ripple around me, and I especially loved it when her head tipped back.
Her wet, pretty pussy invited me in with open arms, and I knew I could do this all day for the rest of my life.
I had missed her taste with the desperation of a physical ache.
Amelie closed her eyes against the sight of me. She was at the crossroads between self-loathing and self-indulgence. She was a monogamous woman, and despite how good it felt, her traditional values compelled her to protest.
But when I slid my fingers inside her and curled, she garbled sounds that were too obscene to fake.
She moaned, back arching, fingers loosely threaded into my hair.
Unintentionally, she rocked her hips back and forth against my mouth, letting careless gasps tumble out of her lips.
She stopped caring about right or wrong and let herself get to the precipice.
“God,” she shuddered, exploding around my mouth violently enough to have toppled over had I not been holding her up. Hot spurts splashed out of her, but she was too far gone to drown in her usual spiral of shame.
I stood, wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeve while working my belt and zipper free. I cupped her knee and raised her to her tiptoes.
I breathed against her temple. “You should have made me take you home.” Even though this was always how the night was going to end. I knew it the moment I saw her at the hospital.
I rubbed her clit and heard her bite back a sound. The orgasm had made her pliant, her head lolling to one side. Her glazed stare told me she was barely lucid.
I plunged inside her, letting her back arch off the wall once more. “Fuck,” I panted.
Her legs wouldn’t spread as far as I wanted, but I forced her to take all of me anyway.
I stared at where we were connected. Years of dreaming of this, of having her in my arms, of watching her slick pussy slide against my cock…
I shuddered. Holding on to her knees, I hefted her farther up against the wall and slammed into her over and over until we were both breathless and panting.
My jaw was tight, head tilted back as I braced one hand against the wall, the other holding her up, as I came hard enough to nearly black out.
When I opened my eyes again, her face was flushed. Instead of her usual ire, her expression was soft.
My gaze drifted between her thighs as cum leaked out of her and trickled down. I wanted to cover her entire body with it, but for now, I settled for spreading it over her lips and thighs. She watched me blankly instead of stopping me.
“I love being inside you. It should always be like this between us.”
She stared at me for a beat, then slowly pushed against my chest for space.
I carried her to the couch instead of letting her create distance between us.
She was pensive without haughty comebacks, and I took advantage of her contemplative mood.
I lay her on the couch and climbed on top of her.
I slid to the hilt and stayed there, letting her feel all of me. I wanted to fuck her slowly this time.
I took my time, watching her face carefully for every flicker of reaction. She held my gaze and, despite her attempts to show me her resentment, all I saw was her need.
“Finish,” she whispered. “I want to go home.”
My eyes dropped to her lips. “You wanted to stay longer. Remember?”
“I told you. This isn’t what I meant—”
I kissed her, sinking my tongue deep enough to taste the sparkling lemonade she had at lunch.
I took her wrists and pressed them against the couch beside her head.
Pinned by my weight, she had nowhere to go and no other choice but to surrender.
Her defiant eyes fought me, even as her back arched at the even rhythm.
When I adjusted the angle, the breath whooshed out with a sharp, involuntary sound.
“Fuck,” she sobbed, head knocking back.
“That’s it, baby. Just like that.”
I pressed her harder into the couch, working her to a frenzy until her head moved side to side.
She bit her lips, chewed on them hard to stop the building orgasm.
It only made her climax harder when she couldn’t contain the shout.
Her nails dug into my palms for an anchor while her head tipped back.
I followed her over the edge within seconds, and only then did I let go of her hands that I’d been holding prisoner. My eyes felt heavy with contentment, and my head felt dazed with lust as I nestled into the crook of her neck.
I stayed inside her with her right underneath me, never wanting to leave. It was where I belonged.
I felt lightheaded, and it took several seconds to recognize a noise coming from the coffee table. I lifted my head and frowned. Amelie was equally wrecked but managed to move her face toward the sound.
Her phone was ringing, and the bane of my existence’s name flashed on the screen—Stefan.
The lust disappeared just like that, replaced by an irrational anger. My conclusion was almost immediate.
There was room for only one man in Amelie’s life, and that man could only be me.
Stefan had to go.