Page 131 of Let You Love Me

And fuck, am I glad we finally got here.

I cradle the back of her skull, spearing my fingers into the long, lush auburn locks that drive me wild. A tilt of my head and I’m taking the kiss deeper, parting her lips with my own.

She sighs, and I swallow with an answering growl.

This. I’ve wantedthisfor so long.

I swipe my tongue over the seam of her lips, then sweep inside her mouth, tasting her like she’s something to be savored. Likeshe’s the best fucking meal I’ve had in weeks, because she is. She iseverything.

I bite her lower lip with a little tug, drawing her closer until we’re flush against each other, so I can kiss her harder. I say all the things she’s afraid to hear, telling her how much I want her. Not her body; though, fuck, do I want that, buther.I want every fucking thing she has to offer—her mind, her heart, her thoughts, her words—anything she’s willing to give.

And in return, she tells me everything she’s afraid to say.

Her lips tell me she wants me, too.

Her soft sigh tells me she’s falling like I am.

The goose bumps over her skin tell me she likes my touch.

The frantic gripping of my shirt means she can’t get close enough; she wants more.

My mouth slides to the corner of her lips, pressing one soft kiss there before I move to her jaw, her neck, and to the shell of her ear, breathing in her sweet scent.

Her breath turns shallow, ragged, matching pace with the pounding of my heart. It hammers against her hands as she splays them over my chest, and when I can’t take it anymore, I return to her mouth, and she meets me with equal enthusiasm.

Her hands drift to my back, sliding beneath my shirt, and my muscles clench in response. Her touch is like lightning, sinking beneath my skin, frying my senses and obliterating my thoughts.

We stumble back toward the living room, my hands on her waist anchoring her to me as we fall to the pile of cushions that serve as a makeshift couch.

My ass hits first and I drag her down with me where she shifts, straddling my lap.

I groan, fingers digging into her hips as I move her over the bulge in my pants while bucking against her.

She feels so fucking good.

My hands slide beneath her shirt and up her back, over miles of smooth, soft skin while my mouth explores the curve of her jaw, her neck, and the skin at her throat where her pulse pounds wildly.

With a growl, I thrust against her, and she answers with another roll of the hips.

My teeth graze her lower lip, nipping and licking, before swallowing her soft moan as I palm her breast.

Slow down, asshole.

Slow. The. Fuck. Down.

With a groan, I reluctantly remove my hands from under her shirt and slide them into her hair instead where I hold her, milking the kiss for everything its worth.

I want to explore everywhere, beneath all her clothes, every fucking inch of her. I crave the feel of her curves beneath my palms, her skin, hot against my own, but the last thing I want to do is move too fast too soon. I don’t want to take more than she’s ready to give. Not when her head is finally catching up to her heart and she’s finally put herself out there.

I slow the kiss, brushing my lips over hers in a languid rhythm before I use every ounce of restraint to pull back.

I stare into her eyes, hooded and clouded with lust, and it’s like a giant fucking gut punch; it makes me want her even more.

I run the pad of my thumb over the curve of her jaw, taking in the sight of her swollen lips and her sparkling eyes, every bit as blue and beautiful as sapphires, and all I can think about is how I want to see her every fucking second of every fucking day. Football is the furthest thing from my mind. Classes, Coach, and my fucked-up trust issues because of Knox are a distant memory.

I am absolutely fucked over for this girl.

Chapter 33