Page 114 of Merry Fake Bride

His other hand caresses down to the side of my neck and his grip is so large that I should be afraid of what he can do to me.

Instead, it excites me in a way I haven’t felt in years.

There’s no alcohol this time to blur my senses or my desires.

This is all me. And all him.

I push at his shirt and the last few buttons clinging for dear life near his waist ping free.

The silk falls away from his shoulders and I’m touching his hot, bare skin.

Muscle dips and trembles under my touch as I stroke over his abdomen and up his chest to the thick swell of his pecs.

He’s trembling as badly as I am.

And the kiss doesn’t end. His hold on me doesn’t end.

I’m hungry.

Starved.

Physical touch is a craving I’ve been unable to satisfy, and now Kairo presents it to me in such a way that nothing else in the world matters.

My core throbs in time to my pounding heart and dampness beads between my thighs while his tongue sensually writhes and curls around my own.

My lungs burn.

My body trembles.

I’m on fire on the inside, and this is just a kiss, but I want so much more.

I need so much more.

When the demand for air forces us apart, his forehead presses against mine and we pant with the same desperation for the limited air between us.

He continues to cradle my head while my hands rest on his ribs. Then I glance up and our eyes meet.

“I want to?—”

“I want you to?—”

We speak at the same time and a rush of breathless laughter follows, then Kairo kisses me again and it’s much harder this time.

My back hits the soft bedding and my dress falls away with one sweep of Kairo’s hands.

Nerves almost strangle me in the few seconds I’m lying on the bed, naked except for my panties, utterly exposed to his liquid-ink gaze, but just as my anxiety spikes, his face melts into a look of utter adoration.

“Wow,” he breathes.

Then he’s over me with one hand grasping a handful of my breast while the other braces on the bed next to me, holding himself up just enough to kiss me.

As our mouths collide, an undeniable, rock-hard bugle in his pants glides over my thigh, and my core tightens once more.

God, I want him.

I’ve never wanted someone more than I do in this second.

His fingers and palm knead my beast as he kisses me deeply, grazing his teeth over my lower lip every time we part for air.