4 #3
He rewarded me with another kiss, this time on my cheek, his left hand making its way up my body, caressing my curves slowly and purposefully until he had my chin in his thumb and forefinger, his thumb gently stroking my jaw.
My nipples peaked underneath my bra from the too-brief stroke of his wandering hand on my breast. My lips felt swollen with anticipation, every nerve in my body surging and alive.
“Give me one more.”
I made another embarrassing noise when he placed a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Uze—”
The word was barely out when finally, finally, his mouth was on mine.
We both inhaled sharply, both pressing close immediately. His hand left my jaw to grip the back of my hair, tilting my head so he could properly mould our lips together. My hands were gripping the back of his shirt in tight fists.
The only way I could describe his kiss was wicked; his mouth was wicked. He kissed me like he was starving, like he was aching—had been aching, and had finally found relief.
He started with soft, fervent kisses, our lips slightly parted, both of us feeling the shape of our mouths and how they fit, the sounds of us meeting and parting making me burn all over. His beard added an extra layer of sensation to the kiss, making my lips, my skin, feel even more sensitive.
Then he went from moulding his lips against mine, to sucking on my bottom lip, scraping it with his teeth, then thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I gasped at the shocking heat of it, moaning when he began stroking in slowly and purposefully, like he was trying to map the insides of my mouth.
My pussy was throbbing, my thighs instinctively trying to clamp close for some relief.
His knee was just a few inches from where I wanted it, which made me feel so fucking needy.
Vaguely, I realised I was making more of those little whimpering noises, like the kiss was also soothing an ache of mine I didn’t know I had.
I began to roll my hips, helplessly, trembling and overwhelmed as he plundered my mouth like he’d never need anything else in his life again.
When we finally had to pull apart for air, we were both panting. He pressed his forehead against mine, his left hand still holding tight onto my braids. Our half-lidded eyes met in the darkness, the eye contact once again shooting through me like lightning.
“Hi,” he whispered, his voice like gravel.
It was like I was seeing him for the very first time. It took me a moment to find my own voice. “Jesus, Uzi,” I breathed, swallowing when it still came out rough.
He laughed. The rumbly sound speared like Cupid’s arrow right through my heart, and went like a shock straight to my clit.
“All right?”
“Jesus,” I repeated. I couldn’t stop staring at him. His dark eyes seemed even darker, lids heavy and low, his soft, full lips slightly parted.
Jesus. Who was this man? What the fuck had just happened?
He laughed again. “I take it that was good, then?” And Jesus fucking Christ, his voice right now. Holy shit. I’d never heard it so deep. So raspy. Except maybe for that night—that first Glitch.
I was literally lying down, and I still felt wobbly. “Who taught you to kiss like that?”
He laughed again, and the sound, irrationally, made me want to kiss him again.
Like he wanted the same thing—or he could read my mind—he ducked down to take my mouth again.
His left hand moved from my hair down to my hip, my thigh, then my ass, gripping the soft, generous flesh and squeezing hungrily, making me groan and practically drench my panties.
Oh God. I wanted—I needed his knee a little higher.
The thought had my clit thrumming, aching for friction.
When I was just about to say fuck it and yank his leg up so I could hump it like a shameless animal, he broke the kiss, resting our foreheads together.
“Fuck,” he rasped. I noticed vaguely he was trembling. We’d barely caught our breaths when he leaned down to kiss me again. And again. It was like a switch had been flipped; we’d literally gone from zero to a hundred in the span of a second, trading kisses like the world would end if we stopped.
He rocked his hips downward, like he couldn’t help it. My own hips jerked up in response, a soft cry of pleasure muffling against his mouth.
He jerked his hips off mine, breaking the kiss again.
“Shit. Fuck. We should—I should go.” He kissed me again.
“The guys are probably wondering.” One more.
Another. He pulled back for the last time, meeting my eyes.
My pussy was acutely aware of the fact that his left hand was still firmly gripping my ass.
“Was that ...?” He swallowed to clear the grit from his voice. “Was that all right?” It didn’t work. “Did that answer your question?”
I had to swallow, too, because holy shit. “Yes, and yes.”
He grinned, slow and sexy. How a grin—his grin—could be sexy, I had no fucking idea. I didn’t think I was on earth right now.
“You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he murmured, staring into my eyes. “This doesn’t change anything.”
How could he even say that? My entire world seemed to have been broken apart and rebuilt all in the last few minutes. After those kisses, it felt like no atom of me was or would ever be the same again.
“I’ll let you sleep on it, yeah?” he murmured, giving me another kiss on the corner of my mouth. He gave my ass a squeeze, seemingly on reflex, before he slid off me, then stood.
He reached down to adjust himself, and I was finally, thankfully able to clamp my thighs together at the sight, shuddering at the much-needed pressure on my swollen clit. His gaze burned, like he knew.
“Just ... take some time to give it a proper thought.”
I nodded, blinking rapidly.
“I’ll see myself out, yeah?”
I was feeling a little more like myself, and yet not. “All right.”
His eyes tracked mine in the darkness, dropping briefly to my lips. My lower belly cramped up hard, my thighs clenching tighter.
“Goodnight, Fure,” he said huskily. “Love you.”
“Goodnight, Uzi,” I replied, swallowing. “Love you, too.”
I waited until he left my room. Then I waited some more, listening to the sounds of the guys, and Tamara and Ezra, saying their goodnights below. I waited until the front door had closed, Bernice and Fiona had turned in for the night, and still waited for a few minutes after.
Then I got my bullet vibrator out from the bottom drawer of the dresser at the foot of my bed.
Christ, I was soaking wet. I didn’t even bother taking my clothes or my panties off, rolling into my stomach and thinking of his drugging kisses, the brief feel of his hard length pressed against my hip as he’d rocked against me for that one electrifying moment.
That too-brief caress of his hand across my breast.
Fuck, even his scent was all over my sheets. How could something I usually found so comforting suddenly turn this fucking arousing? I inhaled like a hoover, shoved my hand down my underwear, and ground my hips desperately into my vibrating palm until I came with a muffled cry.
I melted into the mattress, almost gasping, staring at the wall ahead of me with hazy eyes.
I hadn’t counted on this. All I’d naively foreseen had been two options; that it would either be weird and we’d stop, or it would be perfectly ... fine. Good enough for us to do it without it being strange, but still entirely platonic.
I was so fucking fucked.