Page 21
Story: Kiln Me Softly
‘Why does it matter?’ Her throat was dry, hoarse, and everything inside her clenched when his eyes scratched over her again, this time darkening to a near-black. She itched to know the answer, to know why he kept trying, to know why he was looking at her like he wanted to rip her clothes off.
And to know why she liked it.
‘I care about doing this project right,’ he said. ‘I care about not spending every waking hour fighting with you for the rest of the school year.’
‘Not everything in life is convenient.’ She tried to sneer, but her body was incapable of listening to her, especially when he closed the gap between them with a final step.
His toes nudged against hers, and he reached to brush a stray curl from her eye. ‘And you, Juniper Hodgson, are the least convenient person I know.’
Her lips parted. He was touching her, and she should have hated it, but instead, she could only try not to melt into him completely. When he leaned in to kiss her, she failed even at that.
His lips explored her tentatively, as though waiting for her to pull away. Nobody had kissed her like that before. She was too awkward, too forthright. People either treated her like the rough, abrupt woman she was, leaving nothing to the imagination, or were too put off to bother at all.
‘See? Not so hard to let go of all that anger, is it?’ he murmured against her lips, thumb tilting her chin so delicately she barely felt it. ‘All that fighting. You should have just told me you wanted me.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t want you.’ The lie cracked in her throat, but she refused to admit that she was hopelessly attracted to the man she despised.
‘Then tell me to stop.’ His fingers curled at the nape of her neck, and she felt the touch bolt down her spine like lightning.
She couldn’t. With her thighs pressed tightly together, she couldn’t imagine him walking away now. She wanted to be touched, wanted to feel, for once, like she was a human. Like everybody else.
The hot breath fanning over her face centred her, put her back down on solid ground, but it also made her aware of every sensation she’d ever felt. Every tickle of hair on her scalp, every pinprick of heat. It pooled between her legs, scraped against her ribs, as the scent of that same cologne she’d been wrapped in all week mingled with mint and beer and salt.
What would he taste like?
What would he kiss her like, if he really, truly knew she wanted it?
The urge to find out drove her lips back to his. She kissed him furiously, viciously, letting all of her spite bleed together with desire until she wasn’t sure how to tell the two apart. It didn’t matter, all of it fuelling her actions: fingers curling into his shirt, teeth nipping down on his bottom lip.
He moaned, and she wondered if that meant he was at her mercy. If he might be the one to begherfor something. If only she could pull away for long enough to find out, but it was impossible when his heavy hands floated to her lower back, his stomach pressing against hers.
‘Fuck, Juni, I want…’ His words were jumbled and incomplete, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh around her hips.
She wanted, more now than before, and she didn’t have to ask when his mouth began to map her neck, collarbones, chest. He kissed her through the mesh of her shirt as though he couldn’t wait to devour her, as though no amount of layers could stop him, and she leaned back, body sparking in response. She could only grip onto the windowsill, gasping when he frantically nudged her skirt up to her hips to reveal the simple black underwear beneath. She was certain he’d find the fabric damp, but was too turned on, too furious, tooeverything, to feel embarrassed.
‘D’you know how gorgeous you are? Just the thought of touching you makes me hard,’ he confessed as his finger traced over the lace edge around her groin.
‘Then touch me,’ she pleaded, knotting her fingers in his hair. Her hips rocked, desperate to meet him, and there she found he was right.He was hard, the outline of his length tautening his denim jeans.
She couldn’t resist teasing him, dragging her palm up with just enough pressure to make him hiss. She jolted as his finger brushed her folds. ‘Do you want my fingers or my tongue?’
‘Both,’ she admitted, because she was nothing if not honest. It was clear there was no turning back now, and she was too hazy with want to find a reason to want to.
‘So impolite. Aren’t you going to say please?’ he asked, running his hands up her stomach to squeeze her breasts.
She shook her head, though her spine arched of its own accord. ‘Aren’t you going to hurry up before I change my mind?’
His chuckle vibrated through her, and he finally slipped a hand beyond her waistband. He was as good at teasing her as she was him, swirling a finger around her warm, wet heat – everywhere but the spot she needed him most.
‘Aiden,’ she whispered, teeth gritting. ‘If you don’t get on with it, I’ll do it myself.’
Another laugh, this one deep and sensual. ‘Well, we can’t have that.’
He sunk a finger inside her, and only then did his thumb finally toy with her swollen clit. She cried out when the cold metal of his ring sent unexpected darts of pleasure through her, and he covered her mouth with his free hand. ‘Shh. Don’t want people hearing you, do we?’
She couldn’t give a flying fuck about people hearing her in her present state, hips grinding as she sought more of him, more pressure, more pleasure. She used him as her anchor,wrapping her arms around his sturdy shoulders and letting her nails scratch over his skin as he worked her in all the right places.
‘Fuck, Juniper,’ he cursed, parting her legs with his own when she tried to squeeze around him. Lowering to his knees, he draped a leg over his shoulder to allow him deeper access. His head tilted up to her, eyes gleaming as though he was looking up at something divine. Awed, almost, but that couldn’t be right. Still, he suckled on the marks and freckles patterning her inner thighs until she was terrified he wouldn’t have time to use his tongue, terrified she was already too close.
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