Page 66 of One Kiss Isn't Enough
“Kiss me, Chlo. Even if it doesn’t make it better, it’ll feel better, and that counts for something, doesn’t it? Life is what we feel. That’s what keeps us alive.”
Leaning forward, she places one hand on my chest, barely touching me, hesitant and careful. She stands on her tiptoes next, taking her time to plant the smallest of kisses against my lips. Her soft, feminine touch may feel like nothing to her as she brushes her lips against mine, but to me it’s everything, even if it’s only miniscule to her.
I can feel the faint wetness she leaves behind as she pulls away, her eyes still open. I can even hear her heart running wild so close to mine, no matter if she’s so restrained in front of me.
“There,” she whispers and tries to move back, but I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her in closer to me, forcing her breasts against my chest, her hips pressed to my thigh, and a small yelp of surprise slips from her.
“Again,” I command her, barely breathing. Moving my other hand to the small of her back, I keep her pinned to me. “Kiss me again.” Although my voice is strong and the words are a demand, both of us can hear my desperation, so why hide it? “I’m fucking begging you, Chlo,” I whisper the strangled truth.
It’s only a single beat, a single moment before she crashes her lips against mine, hungrily, greedily, searching for the same thing I need.
The feeling of being loved. Of knowing it and wanting nothing more than it. I could tell her a million times and she could do the same for me, but it’s only when we kiss like this, raw and with everything we have, that we can feel it burning in our blood.
Her nails dig into the back of my neck as she parts her lips and my tongue dives into her mouth, massaging hers with swift, powerful strokes.
Lifting her ass up with one hand, she wraps her legs around my waist and I don’t waste a single moment bringing her back to the sofa, knocking off the suitcase and placing my wife down in its place. She heaves in a breath when I finally pull away from her.
“Bastian,” she breathes my name, rather than the oxygen she needs. I barely get a glimpse of her as I rip my shirt off and I hate it. I hate that anything gets in the way of what we both need.
I’m savage as I rip her clothes from her, tearing down the front of her shirt and pulling her pants and panties down as if they’re scorching her skin and she’d be scarred if I didn’t remove them this instant.
Her panting, her soft moans, the way she lifts her hips to help me and then tears at the button on my jeans, it all fuels me to move faster, to eliminate everything that keeps us apart.
She stares up at me, watching as I kick off my jeans and then grip the top of the sofa as I move between her legs. “I love the way you kiss me.” That’s all she says.
Cupping her bare pussy, I find her wet and hot and wanting. Her lips form a perfect O, and her eyes go half lidded as I finger fuck her, bringing her closer to the edge but not letting her get off.
Her little whimper of protest makes me smile. Her pout, the way she wraps her leg around mine and then digs her heel into my ass… Fuck, everything about her makes me hard.
I wait for her eyes to find mine and hold her stare before telling her, “Don’t stop kissing me.”
She isn’t given the chance to answer, because I thrust myself inside her to the hilt, making her scream out in pleasure before slamming my lips against hers.
Our lips crash and our moans mingle in each other’s mouths as I thrust into her over and over again. Moving out slowly, ever so slowly to tease her and then pushing myself into her in one swift stroke. Each time her head begs to fall back, but she keeps her lips on mine, struggling to breathe, to move away from the intensity, to get closer and have more.
A cold sweat breaks out along every inch of my skin as I pick up my pace, ruthlessly fucking her and claiming her again and again until her tight cunt spasms around my length and I groan as I lose myself deep inside of her.
Even then, she doesn’t stop kissing me. Her body trembles under me and her nails scratch down my back, but her lips stay on mine. The two of us never parting, my Chloe Rose never leaving me. And we unravel together.
She’s still panting, still feeling the waves of aftershock when I pull out of her slowly and move quickly to get beneath her, laying her limp body on my chest to nestle beside her.
“I love you.” She doesn’t moan the words or whisper them, but they get lost in the air just the same.
I kiss her hair, her cheek, her shoulder until she brings her lips to mine and kisses me gently, but with undenied passion. And it’s only when she breaks the kiss that I tell her, I love her too.
I always have and I always will.
I don’t know that she’ll ever know just how much. She is my everything. My only. My hand moves to her belly, to the life we made together. I would do anything for my family. I will do anything and everything to make sure they will never have to be afraid. Our child won’t experience the same life we had.
I won’t allow it.
“What do you want to know?” I ask her, feeling her bare skin pressed against mine. Her hair slips through my fingers and I wait for her to ask any question and I’ll answer it. “I don’t want to lose you or lose this ever again, Chlo. If you need to know something, ask me. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you anything.” I breathe in deep before confessing, “But you may not love me anymore when you hear the truth.”
“Sebastian, you’re crazier than I am if you think I could ever not love you. Right now I want to know where and when you’re working. I don’t like waking up alone.”
While kissing her hair and running my fingers down her back, I answer her, “I can show you one place I may be a lot.” She readjusts on the sofa, moving her small body so more of her is on top of me. I fucking love it. I love how she wants me and how she shows me that she does.
When she lifts her head, her brunette hair tumbles down her shoulder, exposing more of her and I lean forward to kiss that crook in her neck. “You love it when I kiss you here,” I whisper against her skin and she gives me a small, feminine moan of feigned protest.