Chapter 26
Kyran
Overwhelming.
I know exactly what she's feeling.
But how could a sexual attraction be so overwhelming that it causes the need for a slower pace when we both know we don't want to stop?
Though, she's probably right. I know she is.
If we take things too fast and allow our desire to feed itself without either of us slowing down to actually taste it, then we might royally fuck up what we have, which believe it or not feels fucking rare and nice.
I let her walk away, and when I see her close the door to the spare room, I retreat to my own.
It's not long before I brush my teeth, strip my shirt, and get into bed.
I don't even turn on the TV or reach for a book.
And I thought of taking a cold shower, as nearly an hour passes with no sleep in sight and the affects her body has on mine are still showing in evidence, but my shirt smells like her from when she was pressed so tightly against me.
I don't have the urge to take that away just yet.
I roll over to my side, stuffing my hand under my pillow to try and force myself to sleep, when a slight buzz comes from my side table.
I flip back over and sit up to see that my phone screen lights up, and I reach for it to find that it’s about fifteen minutes to midnight and Weslyn has texted me.
Are you awake?
I am.
I can't sleep.
Strange. Me neither.
Talk to me?
Of course.
My fingers hover over the keyboard displayed on my phone as I watch the text bubbles dance, indicating her response is coming soon.
I know we're just rooms apart now, and I could just walk over and talk to her face to face, but I allow this to continue because this way, it's easier to not fall into that temptation.
But I can't help but still feel the way I do even through text messages.
What are you wearing?
I laugh out loud as I read her message, especially because she sends it with a wink emoji and I know she's just being a brat.
Seriously? Isn't that supposed to be some kind of cringe question guys should ask?
So then ask.
I let a minute tick by, reading the message repeatedly.
Don't be shy.
What are you wearing?
I send the message and watch as her response is forming.
I'm wearing a black, silk nightie. It's got lace on the top part where it touches my breasts. It's a spaghetti strap, so my shoulders are pretty bare. And underneath…
Weslyn…
Fuck, I'm hard. But it's not the first time I've been hard while talking to her on the phone. Sometimes, it's out of fucking nowhere too and she could be just . . . talking. But this, this is something else. It's bold.
I'm wearing a black thong to match.
You cannot say things like that to me…
I thought you said slow.
I watch the three little dots bounce up and down and when a response comes in, I don't know how to answer.
You asked what I was wearing. Am I supposed to lie to you?
I text, then delete. Then I lock my phone. I want to respect what she has asked for. And I know that I can't do that if I'm thinking about her fucking nightie and her matching thong.
But I pick my phone back up and think of something to say. I could just say goodnight and see if that stops the conversation. Not that I want to, but I have to.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
I need you, Kyran.
My dick aches in my sweats and I have to force myself not to do anything about it. But she's making it really fucking hard right now.
Say that again.
I watch as the text indicator bounces up and down.
I really need you.
I throw my head into my pillow with a groan before typing out a response to her.
Fuck. Weslyn, you have to be careful with what you say to me.
She doesn't text back so I set my phone down so that I don't end up crossing the line either. A line I really fucking want to cross but she was the one who asked me to go slow. But a few minutes pass when I hear a knock at my door. I sit up and let my eyes adjust to the dark even though I’ve been awake this whole time.
I hear little footsteps pad away and I realize, it has to be Weslyn.
I get up and walk over to the door and open, catching her walking away.
“Wes?” I call out to her and she stops before turning to look at me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just…” she trails off and I can see the apprehension on her face.
“Do you want to come in?” I decide to ask her and it doesn’t take her much time to nod her head before stepping forward.
“I’m sorry to be like this,” she says and I have to stop myself from placing my hand on her to guide her into the room, seeing as she is wearing exactly what she had described and even though it’s dark, I can see the outline of her body as she moves into my room.
“To be like what, Weslyn?” I ask, curious as to what she means.
“I don’t know, I guess,” she starts before turning to look at me. I decide to walk over to my nightstand and flip the table lamp on so at least we can see each other while we talk.
She follows my direction with her body but stays put a few feet in front of the door.
“I think my mind is spinning one-hundred thoughts per minute and I started to overthink things,” she admits, and I have to hide my grin.
“You do that a lot, don’t you?” I’ve already made the observation and I’ve been able to help her manage her way out of it without her even knowing, but hearing her admit that she’s been doing it has me feeling like she’s ready to be honest about me with her feelings.
“I do. And I don’t even really know why? I know I tend to ramble when I’m nervous or when something causes me to be anxious but I never have much to over think otherwise, and I…”
She lets her words trail off when she finally looks up at me and sees that I am fully entertained by her.
“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
“I think it’s cute,” I try to reassure her but she shakes it off by playfully rolling her eyes at me.
I take a few steps toward her and pull her in for a hug, trying to comfort her. But I quickly realize it’s the wrong move when I can practically feel her skin through the thin nightie she’s wearing and her body warms on mine instantly.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asks as she pulls her arms to her chest while I squeeze her to my body. My bare chest on her arms causes a barricade between us, but I don’t let that stop me from wrapping my arms around her.
“Of course you can,” I tell her, whispering into the top of her head.
“Why are we both so hell-bent on denying what is so easily apparent between us?” She brings her head up to look at me and I stare back down at her.
“I think I’m just trying to be respectful, more than anything. I know this is all kind of new for both of us.” The confession is true and while I am trying to be respectful, she also quite literally asked me to slow it down earlier. “And you said to go slow, remember?”
“I don’t know why I said that,” she whispers as she turns her head back down and presses closer into me before continuing.
“This isn’t new. I mean, maybe it is. But it’s also familiar and comforting and different.
And all of those things are good. At least to me.
But I’m pretty sure we feel the same way so why are we tiptoeing around it? ”
I take in her words and she’s one-hundred percent right. All of those things are valid but still, I need her to be all in before I make any more moves. And fuck, do I really want to make my move.
“And how is it that you feel?” I decide to ask her, wanting an elaboration on how she thinks we both feel. Needing the clarification to make sure that I’m not just feeling everything I’m feeling by myself.
I’m reluctant to move my hands when she takes a step back, causing me to let go of her and a cold air to form between us. But I look down at her as she answers me.
“When we were talking everyday through text messages, it was like we were building a friendship. Like we were best friends just enjoying each other’s time, you know.
And that was special to me . . . is special to me.
And now, now that I am with you in person, I can’t deny the fact that my heart races quicker when I see you.
That my skin lights with this fire every time you step close to me.
” She swallows as she brings her eyes down to my bare chest. “And it’s really freaking hard to deny those things even more so when you’re standing in front of me with no shirt on,” she adds with a sexy smirk and I return her thought with a chuckle, stepping up to her and pinching the hem of her nightie.
“Imagine how I feel with you in that scrap of fabric.” She gasps as I eat the space between us once more, stepping closer to press the palm of my hand to her cheek, forcing her to look up at me. “And knowing what’s underneath.”
“Kyran.” My name is a heated whisper on her tongue and I can hear the desperation in her tone.
“But you’re right. I feel the exact same way you do.” I let my voice level down, making sure that she can hear just how much I want her when I move my hand to the top of her shoulder, teasing the loose spaghetti strap of her nightgown.
I can hear a little gasp leave her mouth, her lips part and her eyes watching mine as they hold an intense eye contact.
“Is this okay?” I ask as my fingers slide the strap down her shoulder slowly and gently. I let it fall down naturally after she provides me with the sweetest little hum and of a yes and then I trail my fingers over the strap and toward the lace covering the top of her gown.
“What about this?” She looks down with her eyes closed now, likely feeling the way her skin pebbles in the wake of my touch. She lets out a soft yes, so I allow my fingers to drift over her breasts, lightly pressing into her skin as I explore the soft curves of her body.
I can see her shift, and I know she fucking feels exactly how my body feels.
Needy. We’re in tune and I don’t see why anyone would want to tiptoe around the way our tensions ignites when it feels this fucking good.
My cock twitches in my sweats right as I dip my fingers under the lace of her top, but stop before pursuing further only to ask for permission.
“Can I touch you here?” I use my other hand to tilt her chin up to me, prompting her to open her eyes as I wait for her answer.
“Yes,” she whispers almost in agony and I can see the blush painting her skin like fucking art. She’s so sweet and my heart is beating out of my chest in anticipation of making her feel the way I know she craves and quite frankly, what she deserves.
I let my hand help push the rest of her top down, the strap sliding further down her arm and the fabric that’s covering her breast falls with it easily.
I look at where my hand travels down her skin and see one of breasts is now exposed. Her nipple is peaked to perfection, her skin pebbled with the evidence of how turned on she is, and her little breaths can be heard panting quietly through her parted lips.
I let my fingers skate gently over her skin. I make a small circle with my index finger over the curve of her breast before letting it trail down the point of her nipple and tracing it softly.
“Oh,” she moans and I feel the way her husky sigh travels down to my cock.
She finally reaches out to touch me, placing both of her hands on my waist, likely to brace herself or to have something to give her purchase and to not buckle at the knees.
I play with her nipple for a few seconds more before moving my hand down further, moving over the bunched fabric right below her breasts and over her stomach.
I can see the way her eyes flutter as they move with my trail, watching me as I dip further and further until I’m hovering over the hem of her nightie.
My fingers press into the skin of her thigh to lift the fabric and I slowly skate my hand underneath it.
Her chest rises and falls with anticipation and at this point, I’m rock hard watching her as she so sweetly lets me explore her body.
As I move up her thigh, she subtly spreads her legs a little wider, signaling me where she wants me.
She’s still holding on to my body, her fingers digging into the skin of my waist right where my sweats hug me.
I use my other hand to hold her by her neck.
My fingers twist in the tendril of her hair as she keeps her eyes focused where my other hand is slowly slipping.
But I force her face up to mine right as my fingertips reach the thin fabric of the thong she had teased me with earlier.
Her eyes fly open and a gasp leaves her mouth, our eyes connected in this heated dance of tension and desire.
“What about here?” I whisper darkly to her. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and attempts to close her eyes, but I stop her.
“Weslyn. Eyes on me, love. Can I touch you here?” I ask one more time, trained on the way her face contorts with so much fucking pleasure, knowing that she wants me there as much as I do.
She nods her head at me, and a soft moan escapes her lips as I dip my fingers under her thong.
She keeps her eyes on mine and I don’t allow us to break that connection when I touch her for the first time. But I find that I myself have a hard time not closing my eyes when I allow my middle finger to slide through the soft folds of her pussy, feeling just how fucking wet she is.
“Fuck, Wes,” I growl out as her mouth falls open, her fingers digging a little tighter into my skin. “You’re soaked, love.”
“I- oh.” She’s speechless and rightfully so. I can hear the agony in her little whimpers as I slide up to where her clit is swollen for me, then back down to her entrance where her desire is evident.
It’s too much to have her like this, almost forbidden, but I need more.
I stop what I’m doing to reach down to her the back of her thighs and swifty pick her up. She lets out a little yelp before grounding herself on my shoulders to hold on while I wrap her legs around me and walk us over to my bed.
I lay her down gently, when really I want to be rough. She’s turned me on and I know I won’t be able to stop. I need her. All of her.
I watch over her body, her nightie lifted up and bunched sweetly over her stomach exposing her black thong and the goosebumps flooding her skin.
I crawl over top of her, hands on either side of her head before leaning down to her face, lips nearly touching as I whisper, “No more tiptoeing. Let me make you mine, love.”