Chapter Four
KYRA
Holy shit.
I’m kissing Davis.
And fuck me, can he kiss.
His lips are the perfect combination of soft and strong as they move along mine, taking over every one of my senses. My knees wobble and relax into him, knowing that he has me, letting go of everything. Absolutely everything. Because nothing else matters.
Davis is kissing me.
Pulling back, my lungs constrict, gasping for air but also wanting more of him. The tingle in my lips is like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s a Davis Barnes special.
“Just like that,” he whispers, flexing his hand against my hip, his lips still a whisper away from mine.
“Just like that,” I repeat.
Although maybe not just like that. Because if he kisses me like that tomorrow in front of the judge and our families, I can’t promise I won’t burst into flames. I’m half a heartbeat from igniting right now as it is.
“Or…” He slides his hand from my hip to my lower back, drawing me into him. “Maybe like this…”
In a heartbeat, he captures my mouth with his again. This time it’s slower, more purposeful, like he’s drawing it out intentionally. And my world stops.
For all the times he’s held me, hugged me, run his fingers through my hair, or touched me in some other way that I’ve never thought twice about, or even longed for it to be more, nothing prepared me for this feeling. This heart-stopping, soul-lifting, elation from a simple kiss.
And yet, it’s still not enough.
I crave more.
I grasp onto him, digging my fingers into his shirt, trying to anchor myself to him. The soft fabric pulls free from his jeans, exposing a small patch of skin. I take advantage of the new spot, slipping my hands under the hem of his shirt and running my nails along his back.
“Kyraaaaaaaaa,” Davis groans, jutting his hips into me.
I do it again. His mouth inches along my jawline, until he reaches my ear, nipping at it.
“Keep that up, Baby, and you’re going to see a different side of me,” he warns.
“Promise?”
I press my nails into his skin, not hard, but enough to issue the challenge. To see if he’s all talk.
Because if there is one thing I know about Davidson Oswald Barnes, he puts his money where his mouth is.
And I want his mouth on me.
“Try me.”
Curling my fingertips into him, I slowly drag them down his back. The low, rumbling noise Davis lets out is damn near feral, his blue eyes going dark, like a werewolf shifting right in front of me. Except, instead of something scary, the man holding on to me morphs into sex personified.
Sending my pulse skyrocketing.
Faster than I can blink, Davis’s hands are on my ass, palming me as if I were a basketball, tugging me up and into him.
His mouth is back on mine, taking charge and showing me exactly what he means by a different side of him.
I don’t fight it, matching his energy, wrapping my legs around him, and kissing him back.
His fingers dig into me as he presses my core against him. I can feel his bulge through his jeans, and I know he’s as turned on as I am, sending a rush of desire straight through me. I try to deepen the kiss, but Davis has other ideas, stepping backward and plopping us down onto the couch.
Pulling back just enough, he reaches for the hem of my tank top, pushing it up. Then he stops, his eyes meeting mine to silently question if this is okay. I answer by placing my hands on his and continuing.
“Fuuuuuuck, Kyra,” Davis curses, biting his lip.
His eyes go wide, glued to my breasts, sitting unimpressively in my tan-colored bra. Suddenly I’m a lot more self-conscious than I was a few seconds ago, wishing I’d worn cuter—even matching—underwear. At least this is satin. And clean.
Like a small child, awestruck by beauty, Davis continues to stare, his hands reaching around behind me and unhooking my bra.
Another curse erupts—this one unintelligible—as he discards it, wasting no time getting down to business.
His mouth is on me, tongue laving my nipple, erasing my thoughts, and giving me exactly what I wanted.
“Davis,” I moan, unable to form a complete thought.
“Your tits are perfect,” he replies, moving from one side to the other. “Absolutely perfect.”
I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of him this close. Yet somehow it feels uneven.
Reaching down, I tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head, exposing him to me.
I’ve seen Davis without a shirt on what must be a million times over the years, but tonight it’s different.
And not because of the moonshine. Tonight, I don’t just get to look at those well-defined pecs, or imagine licking his abs. I actually get to do it.
“Know what the problem with having you in my lap like this is, Baby?” Davis asks, nipping at my clavicle. He slowly moves up my neck, tickling me with his breath. “I can’t taste your pussy like this.”
A shudder rips down my spine, his dirty words stoking the already burning flame inside me.
At the same time, Davis tightens his grip on my waist, whipping us around so that now I’m the one on the couch, all while kissing his way down my body.
His fingers make fast work of my button fly, undoing my pants and working them over my hips, taking my panties with them.
There’s no time to be self-conscious, or even think about how my purple thong would not have been my choice for him to see me in for the first time.
Davis has me naked and splayed out on his couch, eyeing me, licking his lips like I am the prime rib at the end of the all-you-can-eat buffet.
My body tingles with anticipation, excitement swirling in my tummy as I wait for him to make a move.
“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he whispers, settling between my legs.
Placing a kiss on each hip, he continues to work his way south, taking his time, drawing this out, for no other reason than he can. To tease me. Taunt me. Push me right up to the very edge.
And damn it, it’s working. My heart is racing, every part of me raring to go. Like a race car waiting on that green flag—the engine revved and primed, with a foot on the pedal, waiting for someone to give permission to floor it.
Then Davis hits the gas.
“Faaaa!”
I scream, and my hands reach for something to hold on to as Davis licks from bottom to top, flicking my clit as he goes.
My reaction is noted and he repeats the move, and I’m a goner.
My mind is wiped clean, the only thing I can focus on the contact between us.
The feel of his tongue against me, circling my clit, is driving me absolutely wild.
“Fuck, you taste amazing,” Davis murmurs, but his words barely register.
I’m lost in the pleasure. In the building of my orgasm. In the tidal wave that is going to hit me any second. I just need—
As if he can read my thoughts, Davis zeroes in on my clit and inserts two fingers inside me.
That’s all it takes, sending that tidal wave crashing.
I scream out again, bucking underneath him, reaching down and wrapping my fingers in his hair.
All that does is make him up the ante though, curling his fingers inside me as I see stars.
Fuck me…
Actually, that’s exactly what I want him to do. No, need him to do. I’ve never needed anything more in my life.
“I need you inside me,” I demand, my voice breathy and wanton. “Now.”
“My, aren’t we demanding…” he taunts, kissing me.
I can taste myself on his lips, the sweet tang a new turn-on I wasn’t expecting.
“Are you not going to comply?”
“Did I say that?” Resting his forehead against mine, he drags his finger through my pussy, toying with my clit, making me whimper, as if to show me he’s still in charge. “But that also doesn’t mean that I won’t make you pay. Make sure you know who the boss really is.”
Fuuuuck…
“Me,” I counter, reaching forward and palming his bulge.
Davis hisses, and I smile, knowing that I got to him. I quickly undo his zipper, reaching inside, my hands instantly finding his cock. Davis is going commando.
“Find something you like?”
His smirk says it all, and just like that, whatever little power shift might have come my way is gone. Something I’m more than okay with. I’m completely his. In every way possible.
I nod, tightening my grip on him before I start to stroke, freeing him from his jeans.
“Good.”
A single jut of his hips catches me off guard, just enough for me to let go, giving Davis all the go-ahead he needs to tumble us back around, shove his pants down, and haul me into his lap.
I’m too caught up in his kisses to focus on the physics of it all.
Too caught up in how he’s making me feel. In what’s coming next.
“I want to fuck you so bad, Kyra.”
“So do it already.”
“I…” Davis pauses, looking me straight in the eye. My heartbeat thrums through my veins, counting each second until he speaks again. “I don’t…don’t have anything on me.”
He doesn’t…what?
Then it hits me. Protection.
“You’re my best friend in the world, and about to be my husband. There isn’t anyone I trust more than you. ’Nuf said.”
I don’t leave any more room for argument. Not that I think he will, but I’m not taking my chances. I need him too badly.
Lining myself up, I slowly sink down onto Davis. And my whole world stops.
Suddenly, I can’t breathe. Time, space, none of it exists. Only this incredible feeling of fullness. Of completeness.
“Kyraaa…” Davis groans, so deep and raspy I almost don’t recognize my own name. And still, it’s the most incredible sound I’ve ever heard. One that resonates so deep, I’m not sure that anything will ever compare.
That’s how I know he feels this too.
He moves slightly, my body stretching to accommodate him, the glorious feeling somehow continuing. I whimper, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his, wanting to strengthen our connection still. Because somehow, this still isn’t enough.
Then he moves again.
And it’s lights out.
I’m no longer in control. Hell, I don’t think either of us is. But it doesn’t matter, because we’re in this together. A mess of limbs and a chorus of grunts and groans as our bodies do all the talking for us. Saying all of the things that we’ve been too chicken to say for so many years.
And based on how fucking incredible this feels, there’s been a lot to say.
“That’s it, Baby, use my cock,” Davis says, laving my nipple again. “Are you going to be a good girl and come for me again?”
I nod, throwing my head back, focusing on all the things he’s making me feel. On how close I am. The telltale tingle is building in me, and all the attention to my breasts is certainly helping. I just need a little more.
“Come for me, Kyra.”
Reaching between us, Davis’s thumb finds my clit in an instant, applying the perfect amount of pressure, setting me off like a bottle rocket. Fireworks explode behind my eyes like the Fourth of July.
I scream out his name, holding on for dear life, my nails digging into his skin as my orgasm hits. Davis holds on even harder, thrusting into me faster, prolonging my climax, and setting off his own.
He cries out, sounding like the guy in Braveheart, the echo ricocheting off the walls of his living room and reverberating back through us. Crashing forward, I bury my face in the crook of his neck, sighing, as he wraps his arms around me in a bear hug, holding me as close as possible.
I don’t know how long we stay like this—still and silent—with nothing but the calm, even sounds of our mingled breaths filling the air. What I do know is that I’ve never been more relaxed, comfortable, or safe in my life. My heart is so full that I think it might explode.
“Kay?” Davis whispers.
“Hmmm?” I sit back, taking him in.
“You tired?”
“Not really.”
“Oh.”
I can’t tell if that’s disappointment in his voice or not, but there’s definitely a look on his face that tells me my answer derailed his plans.
“But we can take this to the bedroom, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He doesn’t bother disengaging us before standing up, getting ready to head upstairs. I throw my head back laughing. I should have known better.
“Don’t forget the bottle!”