Chapter 28
Rachel
Karan’s mouth on mine stokes the dying embers scattered all across my spine. Whatever was running through my head instants before—whatever was pushing me to leave—falls away to dust.
Before now, Karan has always been a gentle man. He knows how to get rough from time to time, but his kind, patient nature makes it so that he likes to take his time with me.
That patience is out the window now as he kisses me more fiercely than he ever has.
The way his tongue claims my mouth, how our teeth collide, the breathless gasps that escape both of our lips as he presses me up against the wall… It sweeps me up in a tornado of desire. Karan’s hand finds my hip and grips me, hard enough to elicit a whimper from me.
If this were our first time, I know he’d pause, back away, and ask if this is okay.
But this is far from our first time. He knows me, knows my sounds, knows what makes me tick. And he knows that whimper is begging him for more.
The long fingers of his free hand grab the back of my head and tilts me up to give him better access.
I’m drowning in the clean taste of him, and as he moves closer up against me to pin me completely against the wall, I gasp at the delicious pressure of his hips and the rock-hard length between them. My lower belly coils, winding up tight.
“You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice husky and ragged as he pulls away from the kiss just long enough to press our foreheads together. “You hear that, Rach? You’re mine, and you’re worth fighting for. Let me show you just how much.”
He trails kisses down my jaw and into the hollow of my throat, and I revel in the soft yet prickly sensation of his beard scraping against my sensitive skin.
I didn’t expect this. Not at all. When I got up from that chair, ready to leave this place, I was certain Karan was going to let me go.
I’d imagined that maybe he would argue with me, using his words and his words alone.
Only in my wildest dreams did I imagine that he’d truly fight for me like this.
Now, I’ve never wanted him more.
My hands weave through his hair, loosening the bun holding it in place; an obscene sound escapes Karan’s lips when I run my nails along his scalp. As he kisses, sucks, and pulls his way down my shoulders and into my collarbone, his palms squeeze my hip on one side and my ass on the other.
I want to cry out in protest when the heat of his hands move away, but I resist when I feel him use those hands to lift the hem of my sweater.
“Karan,” I gasp against the scrape of his teeth between my breasts.
“Baby,” he sighs, right before wrapping his mouth around my left nipple, his thumb flicking the other in sync with the roll of his tongue.
The sensations pulse through me like shocks of electricity, zapping straight to my lower belly. My hips buck in a frantic effort to relieve the pressure there.
“God, your skin,” he whispers against my breast. “You drive me wild, Rach.”
He looks up at me, those warm eyes now hooded and darkened.
“But imagining you leaving, and someone else having you…”
I raise an eyebrow. “Jealous, are you?”
“Understatement of the century.”
He kisses his way down my belly, and the anticipation at knowing exactly where he’s going is killing me.
It’s been so long since he’s touched me like this, and every scrape of his beard, every flicker of his tongue against my skin, feels like heaven.
“I’m going to remind you how good I can make you feel; how loud I can make you scream my name, and no one else’s.”
“Oh…”
The gasp is involuntary, as is the way my fingers fist his hair. Karan groans in response, but doesn’t stop his path downward.
When his fingers hook against the waistband of my sweatpants and underwear, I clench my thighs and hold my breath. Painfully slowly, Karan drags the fabric down my legs, exposing me to the cool ambient air.
After fourteen years together, I shouldn’t be shy at being laid bare to him like this. Still, after so long, my breath hitches and my legs tense up.
Karan immediately notices the shift in my energy and stops. He looks up at me, his eyes now softened with worry.
“Rach. Is this okay? You want me to stop?”
“Fuck, no. Please don’t stop. I’m just…” I knock my head back against the wall and look skyward.
“Hey.” He grips my hips, but his thumbs run gentle circles against my skin. “Baby, look at me.”
With a careful breath, I obey and meet his gaze again.
“You don’t have to be shy with me. You know that.”
I laugh nervously. “It’s just been so long.”
“I know. And that’s on me. It’s all on me. And what an idiot I am, Rach. Because… fuck, just look at you.” He parts me delicately and moans under his breath. “You’re so beautiful, absolutely everywhere. You deserve to feel good, baby.”
One hand grips my ass to press me closer to him while the other hand keeps me parted.
“Karan,” I whimper.
Having his hot mouth so close to where I need him most is torture.
“You’re so wet already, Rach.” He slides his thumb through my center, and although I sigh at the sensation, it’s far from enough. “Is that all for me?”
“Mmm-hmm.” I have to bite my lip to stop myself from crying out from the unrelieved pressure.
He’s going to make me pass out.
“Look at you, all wound up. Again, that’s my fault.” He presses his lips against my inner thigh, so close yet so far. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you come like you need. Because you need this, don’t you?”
I only hum in response.
“Tell me you want it, Rach.”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“Touch me, Karan?”
“With my hand?”
His thumb gives my clit a gentle flick, and I let out another whimper.
“Yes—no—I mean—”
“Tell me what you want, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”
“I want your mouth!” I scream. “Your tongue. Please, Karan.”
I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Karan’s response is immediate; his fingers dig even deeper into the skin of my ass, and he rewards my vocal demand with a long swipe of his tongue, sending goosebumps across every inch of my body.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, gripping his hair for dear life.
“That’s not my name.” He looks up at me and slips two fingers inside me, the gentle stretching makes me see stars.
“Karan, please!”
With an animalistic groan, he presses his tongue against me again, continuing to stroke me gently with his fingers. The sensations build up at the base of my spine, in the muscle of my thighs, and right at my center.
Karan makes right on this promise, his tongue flicking and lapping expertly in all the right places.
Right now, everything else—his job, his family, the despair I’ve been feeling around our future—falls away, scattering to the ether like dust. There’s only room for him, the delicious friction of his beard, his fingers and tongue pulling ragged gasps and moans from my throat.
A pressure builds up not only at my core, but in my heart, too, as it swells and fills like I didn’t think was possible anymore.
When I’m right along the edge, everything in me tenses, and just as I knew he would, Karan reads me like an open book and begins to slow down his movements, opting to give me slow, deep thrusts of his fingers as he sucks down on my clit.
It’s exactly what I need, and I fall.
I fall, without an ounce of fear in me, the freedom of the flight spreading through my body in waves of ecstasy.
Karan’s moans vibrate against my center, and I hold on to that as I ride the fall.
For a brief moment in time, I am nothing but light, soaring across the sky, held safely by Karan’s reverent touch.
I don’t realize Karan has stopped moving and is now cradling me until he whispers in my ear. “You did so good, baby.”
When I come to, we’re both on the floor, my knees having buckled from my release.
I still can’t feel my toes.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
I must have been screaming by the end.
My legs are still shaking, so I wrap my arms around Karan’s neck and bury my face in his chest, inhaling his scent as I attempt to catch my breath.
Karan strokes my hair, his caresses so gentle that he doesn’t seem like the same man he was a few minutes ago. The man who nearly slammed me against the wall and possessed my mouth like he would die if he couldn’t have me.
This doesn’t fix everything. Of course it doesn’t. But it feels so fucking good to be close to him like this. And to have him actively doing something to keep me in his vicinity.
The desire he lit in my belly isn’t gone.
The scent of him is intoxicating, and I grip onto his shirt, trying to pull it up to reveal the skin underneath.
Confronted with his bare chest—so large, soft, yet strong, and covered with thick black hair I want to lose myself in—my breath hitches before I press my lips to him.
“Rachel.” Karan groans as he grabs onto my shoulder to stop my movements. “Baby. We’re not doing that tonight.”
“What?” I look up at him and see the desire reflected in his eyes.
Fuck, it’s hot to see him at my mercy like this, so why won’t he let me reciprocate?
“This was just for you.” He strokes my jaw with his thumb and gives me a small smile. “You deserve it.”
“But…” My gaze looks him up and down, and I bite my lip. “Karan, I want to.”
One corner of his lips turns up. “You’ll just have to wait.”
He stands, helping me up along with him, and to my chagrin, the fabric of his shirt falls back down with our movements.
“I think the onion soup should be cool enough to eat by now.”
“Really?” I cross my arms and pout. “You want to go straight back to dinner? And leave you like this?”
I point to the very obvious bulge in his pants.
Karan scoops my neck with one hand and kisses my forehead. “I’m sure you’re starving.”
I am… but not for soup.
Seems like there’s no persuading him, because he’s already by the table, moving the bowls and chairs around. When he’s done, the two bowls and our chairs are now side by side instead of facing each other.
Karan pulls out my chair and gestures for me to sit. “Come on. Humour me, will you?”
I roll my eyes and make my way to my seat. “Okay, okay. But only because you worked so hard on this meal.”
Now, sitting at his side, I have to admit this seating arrangement works much better for me. We’ve still got hard things to talk about, but we no longer seem oceans apart.
Still. I eat my soup—which is insanely good—but all I can think about is the throbbing sensation that’s already back between my legs. Karan’s hand rests on my thigh while he eats, and the heat of it through my sweatpants is driving me nearly insane.
Karan always knew how to make me feel good. That was never an issue for us. But I’m still replaying the moment I came undone in my mind, obsessed with wanting to see him fall apart in the same way.
He’s the one to break the silence in between two spoonfuls of soup.
“So,” he starts, giving my thigh a light squeeze. “I know we still need to talk. I only want to acknowledge that I know I can’t cunnilingus my way out of this.”
I snort, a sudden burning sensation overtaking my nasal cavity as I begin to cough violently. Karan taps my back while I go through the coughing fit.
“Don’t make me laugh while I’m eating soup!” I utter at him, giving him a playful smack in his ribs.
“Sorry, Rach. I swear I wasn’t trying to make you laugh.” He’s pressing his lips together as if trying not to laugh himself. “But I meant what I said. I made you feel good to make you feel good, not to win an argument.”
“Well, it did stop me from leaving.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
“But you’re right.”
I know he’s right, but the thing is, I don’t want to fight. I’m so tired of it all. And now, blissed out by what Karan did to me, all I want is one night away from all the bullshit. I lean into him and close my eyes in a soft sigh.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”