Page 37 of Brown Sugar
Fuck it.
Do it.
Lines have already been crossed…
“My turn,” I say throatily. I grab her chin and swipe my tongue at the corner of her mouth.
I intend on pulling back, forcefully restraining myself no matter how much I want her, but I’m not the only one seeking a taste of something I shouldn’t be.
As I go to pull back, Kiana leansintome. She swoops in and smashes her lips against mine in a passionate kiss.
13
KIANA
Tyson tastes like champagne. I greedily suck at his tongue as any restraint vanishes. The bowl he’s holding onto clatters to the ground so he can wrap his arms around me and kiss me deeper. I happily oblige, kissing him back.
I admit I’m not thinking straight.
The champagne’s washed everything in a pleasant, rosy filter that leaves me giggly and excited.
The sweet dessert he spoon-fed me didn’t help. It simply turned me on, making my pussy throb as I licked my lips and the sensuality of the moment trickled over me. Tyson lingered so close, I could feel the heat rising from his skin. He thumbed the same spot where my tongue had been seconds before as if desperate to touch any part of me.
So tempted to make a move himself.
When he seized his chance and licked at the corner of my mouth, it gave me the push I needed to respond. I took a chance by refusing to let him retreat and pretend nothing had happened.
The truth is, in this moment, I want nothing more than to taste a different kind of flavor. The flavor of Tyson Jeffries as I press my lips to his and the tension we’ve built explodes.
It’s weeks in the making as I finally admit what I’ve been denying myself.
Tyson is the only man I want right now.
He’s the man who’s been here for me during some of my most stressful moments. He’s protected and guarded me with his life; he’s gone a step farther and made my well-being a top priority of his.
I’m not just Kiana the superstar with him.
I’m Kiana Baduza thewoman.
I’m not some commodity to be sold or a brand to be marketed in his eyes. He sees me for the person I am and keeps it real with me every step of the way.
Andhe’s six-foot-four, two hundred and fifty pounds of brawn and muscle. He exudes masculinity and alpha energy, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t turn me on.
The first time we met, I told myself he wasn’t my type.
But as Tyson greedily kisses my mouth and shifts me so I’m under him on the sofa, I’m certain I’ve never been more wrong about anything in my life.
Tyson Jeffriesismy type. He’s the man I didn’t know I needed.
A moan escapes me in between our hot kisses. My hands slide along the thick, coarse hairs of his beard, and I clutch his face as he drops kiss after kiss on me. Some long and deep. Others hungry and fast.
Feral.
He’s careful to balance his weight while on top of me, to not entirely crush me, but I’d be lying if I said the heaviness of him doesn’t feel good. That it doesn’t make my pussy tingle even more in anticipation of what’s to come.
I’ve been denied affection for so long in the wake of my breakup with Shawn.
I want to feel every part of Tyson.