Thoughtful(135)

The fury on her face was instant. And satisfying. I’d hurt her. Good. Now she truly knew how I felt, because she sure as fuck hurt me. She tried to smack me, but I’d anticipated that, and held her down. “You son of a bitch,” she snarled.

She was so mad, I thought the raindrops falling from my hair would sizzle when they touched her skin. It amped me up, excited me. The way her cheeks filled with color, the way her eyes danced—her jealousy was intoxicating. Smiling in a way that I knew would piss her off, I told her, “I know who I screwed, but tell me”—my mind spinning with heat, desire, and passion, I lowered my lips to her ear—“who did you fuck that night?” I rocked against her as I said it, reminding her of our heated moment at the club and emphasizing the fire between us right now. She groaned, sucked in a strained breath.

“Was he better…as me?” I continued. Returning my mouth to above hers, I flicked my tongue over her sweet, rain-dampened lip. “There is no substitute for the real thing. I’ll be even better…”

Fuck…say yes…

She didn’t. Instead, she spat, “I hate what you do to me.”

I watched her churning eyes. She was lying. At least in part. But I understood what she meant. I hated what she did to me sometimes too. But more than I hated it, I loved it. And I knew she felt the same. “You love what I do to you.” Remembering being inside of her, making her scream, I ran my tongue up her throat. “You ache for it.” I ache for it. I need you. “It’s me you want, not him.” Choose me. Love me. Show me. Right now.

I pressed my ache against her, needing her more than ever. She threaded her fingers through my hair…then rocked her hips in rhythm with mine. Oh. My. God…yes. I cried out in the same way she did. We needed this. We needed each other. Please, Kiera. Say yes. She moved in time with me. Our breaths picked up, our intensity picked up, the windows steamed up, and the car started gently rocking back and forth with our movements. God, yes, now, more.

Her fingers clawed at my jacket, wanting it off. I helped her remove it. Fuck yes. All of these layers between us need to come off. I want to be naked with you. I want to be bare. Her mouth came up to touch mine but I pulled away. It shot liquid fire down my groin to tease her. Fuck, yes. I wanted to tease her. Then satisfy her. She tried again but with her tongue, and I pulled away again. I thought I was going to explode. I couldn’t tease her for long.

Kiera didn’t want to be teased right now. Frustrated, she raked her nails down my back. Fuck, it was the same way she had scratched me in the espresso stand, when she’d been coming. I nearly came as I remembered it. I dropped my head to her shoulder, digging into her with abandon. Yes. God, more, Kiera. Yes. She cried out as we worked against each other, grabbing my back pockets and wrapping her legs around me in a near frenzy.

Clutching me tight as she moved against me, she moaned, “No, I want him.”

Bullshit. I guarantee she had never felt anything like this with him. “No, you want me…” I said into her neck.

“No, he would never touch my sister! You promised, you promised, Kellan!” She stiffened beneath me. The loss of our escalating rhythm nearly drove me mad.

“That’s already done with. I can’t change it.” She tried to push me away, but I grabbed her hands, pinned them beside her head. I ground my hips into hers, and she made a noise that let me know the momentary pause had nearly killed her too. “But this…Stop fighting, Kiera. Just say you want this. Tell me you want me, like I want you.” My mouth returned to above hers. “I already know you do.”

I was done teasing. I was done playing games. I needed her. Right now. We couldn’t stop this. Not anymore. I lowered my lips to hers. She groaned when our mouths met and my stomach clenched in preparation. Yes…God, Kiera, yes.

Our kiss was hungry and passionate, with each side wanting more. I was right, I knew I was right. She wanted this just as badly as I did. I released her hands and she immediately returned them to my hair. Her fingers felt marvelous running over my scalp. I wanted to feel her long locks, see them spread across my leather seat. I ripped the hair band out and tossed it to the floor. Even wet, her hair felt amazing between my fingers.

Kiera’s dual messages didn’t stop now that our tongues were sliding together. Murmuring that she hated me, she ran her hands down my back and pulled on the pockets of my jeans, asking for more, deeper, harder. I obliged her physical request while I told her that she didn’t hate me.

My hands traveled over every curve I could reach on her—the angle of her jaw, the swell of her breast, the tiny hills of her ribs, the curve of her hip, the roundness of her ass. Her small hands ran under my shirt, feeling my bare skin. Her flesh-against-flesh touch sent a bolt of electricity straight down my body. It was only mildly hampered by her words.