Chapter 12 - Kayla
Fight it.
Stop this.
Push him away.
Do something!
But I can’t.
My body doesn’t belong to me in this moment. Every cell, every fiber of who I am, is now a magnet pulling me forcibly into his arms.
Memories flood me of how insanely good he felt against me, inside me. And every ounce of my resistance fades. He presses his lips harder against mine. I can feel his cock, swollen and hard, pressing into me. At this point, I am his; I do belong to him, and I would let him do anything to me.
This is crazy, Kayla. You are in control. You can stop this if you want to.
But I don’t want to.
His hand brushes down over my throat, and he growls against my mouth.
“I love how you taste,” he says, a dark whisper.
Heat spills through me like lava. My skin burns to feel his touch.
I move, rocking against him, and he releases my hands from behind my back and slips his under my ass to lift me onto the kitchen counter.
Josiah pushes my legs apart and stands between them. His mouth moves over mine. My heart races as I thread my fingers up his neck and into his hair. The way he smells is like a drug pulsing through me. I am intoxicated by him.
He feels so good. Every part of him feels too good. His body is rigid and strong beneath my touch. I am powerless in his hands. And I love it.
He growls again as he lifts me into his arms and carries me out of the kitchen.
Again, my mind screams at me. Stop this. Tell him to put you down.
But it’s too late.
There is a fever so deep inside me…I thought I’d let it go.
I thought I’d overcome this craving I had for him.
But it’s never left me. It’s never subsided.
I pretended to forget the dreams that stole into my thoughts at night.
I pretended to ignore the way I would wake up in a sweat with my hand between my legs.
All I did was manage to temporarily numb this craving. To bury it.
Until now.
Josiah walks into his room and drops me onto his bed, standing on the mattress. He grabs the edges of my top and pulls it up over my head. His eyes roam freely over me. I see the darkness of his thoughts, and it sends heat spilling between my legs and flushes my cheeks pink.
He leans close and his lips lock around my nipple as he cups his hand beneath my breast. I groan in pleasure as he teases my nipple into a hard point, flicking his tongue over it.
My nails dig into his shoulders with need and urgency. If I don’t hold on to him, my legs will collapse beneath me. My head is spinning; my body is pulsing.
He grabs my shorts and yanks them off me, pushing me backwards onto the bed. “Fuck,” he growls as his eyes drag over my naked body. I remember this now. I remember how he used to look at me and make me feel like I was a goddess. Like I was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
He made me feel like I was his entire world.
He grabs my ankles and drags me back towards him as he tugs his pants open while I pull at his shirt. It’s a wild fumble. An urgent, heated struggle.
He tosses his shirt aside and kicks his pants away, then crawls onto the bed. Slipping his hand between my legs and right up against my back, he spreads his palm over my spine, and he lifts me with one arm and moves me to the center of the bed, laying his body over me.
Crushing me.
Smothering me with every inch of his sculpted, muscular form.
He uses his hips to force my legs wide open.
His cock teases my pussy, pushing against it, rubbing, sliding.
I’m soaked, and he can feel it.
Shifting himself, he angles his cock so it’s pressing against my opening. His arms are locked around my back, holding me so tight against him it feels desperate.
He thrusts upwards. Into me.
The pleasure is so astounding it snatches my breath away. My face is pushed against his chest. I am lost beneath his massive form as he thrusts into me again.
And again.
His cock stretches my pussy, forcing me open. Forcing me to take all of him. He pushes deep inside me, possessing me with his entire being.
I claw at his skin, gasping for breath as he fucks me harder and faster.
The intensity is overwhelming.
Everything I’ve been holding back is cut loose.
For a moment, for this moment, I am me again. That girl who dared to believe in love. To believe in fate.
He threads his fingers through my hair and pulls my head back. His lips lock with mine as his cock fills me.
I could deny the connection. I could deny that this has anything to do with him. I could try to convince myself that it’s because I haven’t had sex for years. Since him. No connection. No intimacy.
But that’s not what this is.
This isn’t so basic.
This is something no one else could ever give me, and deep inside, that terrifies me.
Every time he moves, I am pushed closer to the oblivion of pleasure. I’m fighting for breath, clinging to him as my muscles begin to spasm.
He lifts himself so he can continue to fuck me while he watches me.
“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he commands, and I obey. Our eyes lock, and my heart races faster.
He pushes into me, again and again.
My body spasms. My legs shake, and my lips part.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he growls.
My pussy locks over his cock. My mind slips and my entire body shudders as the orgasm slams into me. It waves over me, through me. It breaks me into a million pieces.
Josiah slams into me again, deeper, grinding against me.
He explodes inside me with a low, deep growl.
***
Josiah is fast asleep with his arm locked around my waist. His breathing is even and steady and peaceful.
I haven’t been able to fall asleep. My head is a mess of regrets. My skin is agitated, as though I don’t want to be touched.
I am flooded with guilt for allowing him to have me.
Glancing at the clock, I note that it’s almost three. There is no way that I can stay here all night in his bed. I roll as gently as I can, lifting his massive arm off my waist, wiggling away and then placing it gently down. He stirs and I pause, holding my breath.
After a moment, I keep going, moving to the edge of the bed and slipping out from beneath the covers. I search in the dark for my pajamas and silently slip them back on.
Everything feels wrong.
I’ve made a massive mistake, and I can’t take it back.
Walking back to my own room, I pause outside the twins' room and the soft pink night light, and their quiet breathing beckons me as a source of comfort I desperately need.
I tiptoe into the room, not wanting to disturb them, but wanting to be near them. Lowering myself onto the armchair between their beds, I move last night’s storybook aside and curl my legs up underneath myself.
With my twins on either side of me, I finally manage to fall asleep.
But still, I dream of him. His haunting eyes and his fingers dragging over my skin. The darkness in him that seems to drown me as it pulls me closer. Longing. Need. Guilt.
“Kayla?” Izabel whispers, pulling me from my dreams. “Are you okay?”
My eyes flicker open, heavy and dry. I look up at her, confused for a moment. Where am I? Why is Izzie here? Half of my mind is still asleep.
She hands me a cup of coffee, and I stare at it for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“I walked past and saw you sleeping in here,” Izabel explains. “You can’t be comfortable?”
“I’m okay, is that coffee?” I ask.
She laughs, “Yes, silly.”
I take the mug from her and sit up. Sipping it, the dark liquid pulls me further into the real world.
Izzie steps back as I stand up. “I don’t want to wake them,” I mumble, gesturing for her to follow me out of their room.
She does so silently, and we walk into my room right next door.
“Did you sleep okay?” she asks, eyeing my tired face.
“Not really. Did you?” I ask, sitting on the edge of my bed with her next to me.
“Not really,” she shrugs. “But I am grateful to be here instead of alone at a hotel. I felt safer.”
“Don’t worry. You can stay here while you’re in Chicago. I won’t be comfortable if you’re anywhere else. Not after what happened yesterday,” I sigh.
She nods quietly.
“If you want to talk about anything, I’m here.” Her eyes are so intense it makes me wonder if she saw or heard Josiah and me last night.
I hope not. I’m definitely not ready to talk about that.
“Thank you, Izzie, I know,” I smile, reaching out to touch her arm.
“I’m going to take a shower. I hope it wakes me up a little more,” she says, standing up.
“I am going to close my eyes for another thirty minutes before the twins wake up. Otherwise, I’m going to be a total grouch all day,” I grin.
She leaves my room and I stare at the door after her.
I’m definitely not ready to talk about certain things.
In fact, I’m not even ready to accept that it actually happened in the first place. How in the world am I going to face him? What do I say?
Don’t think about it now. Lie down, close your eyes and try to rest a little more. You’re going to need it.