Page 71 of Off-Limits Bad Boy
“I can't,” I whisper. “I won’t.” We’ve been careful to keep our promises, and we’ve grown good at being honest and seeing the heart of what the other says... or doesn’t say.
“Good,” he says before his lips press gently against mine in a kiss that sears straight to my soul.
It's a taste of what's to come tonight, a reminder that the passion between us hasn’t faded with time. We pull apart only slightly, our breaths mingling, sharing the silent affirmation of what we feel.
“Get a room!” Lila’s son, Dean, shouts at us. His little sister, Grace, pops up beside him, nodding her little head, and I look at Kade before we both share a laugh.
“Let's go home,” I say, not enjoying being on display and watched. Besides, I want to get home where there are no prying eyes so he can make good on the silent promises he’s been throwing my way all night. I’m ready for it to be just us and the undeniable connection that refuses to be ignored.
“Of course,” he says, his gaze telling me that still, after all this time, he feels lucky I’m going home with him. I’ll never tell him, but I think I’m the lucky one. He’s doting and kind, loving and handsome, and amazing. He opens the passenger door for me, and I sit down in the seat, exhaling a deep breath.
The door closes with a click, sealing me away from the world. A moment later, Kade joins me as he slips behind the wheel. But instead of putting the keys in and turning the engine over, his hand finds mine and our fingers lace together. Without thinking about it, he lifts my hand to his face and kisses my fingers. Then he releases me, and we drive home.
The second we cross the threshold and the door closes behind us, I’m pulled in close and pinned to the wall. Kade's hands find my waist, pulling me against him in one swift, deliberate motion. His eyes, dark and full of intent, lock onto mine, and I feel every defense melt under his gaze.
“Did you feel it?” he growls, his low voice a rumble that vibrates through me and makes me shiver.
“Feel what?” I pretend to misunderstand, but the flutter in my stomach betrays me.
“The pull. It's always there, Emma.” He leans down, his breath hot against my ear. “Between you and me.”
I nod, because denying it is pointless. Every nerve ending in my body fires up, and I feel so very alive. We're magnets, drawn together by a force we can't see but can't ignore, either. His lips trail a path from my earlobe down to the sensitive skin of my neck. A shiver dances down my spine, and I tilt my head to give him better access.
I let out a soft, stunned gasp, my body and mind ready to surrender.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, even as his fingers deftly untie the back of my loose, flowing dress.
“I don't want you to,” I whisper, and that’s all the permission he needs.
Our clothes become a memory, discarded haphazardly around the room as we explore each other with a hunger that has been simmering and growing for years. He lifts me onto the kitchen counter, my dress pulled down around my ribs and lifted up to give him access.
He shifts, his body pressing into mine with a delicious slide that I welcome. His thumb finds the bundle of nerves between us and begins a teasing circle that has my head falling back and my body ready to give him what he wants.
“Emma,” he groans, and his voice is thick with desire. “You feel so damn good.” He pulls back and slides home in me again, the soft sounds reaching my ears, the scent of us invading my nose, and the overwhelming sensation of him filling me and teasing me all at once as I sit on the quickly-warming countertop.
His movements are purposeful, each thrust leaving me weaker, every rotation of his thumb pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
He was my first. My second. My third. And I have no doubt he’ll be my last. My only. Because this man knows how to play my body like an instrument, and I’ve never once been unsatisfied or unhappy.
I cling to him, my hands digging into the sinewy muscles of his back, urging him closer, deeper. He ducks his head, his lips finding one of my nipples and teasing the spot to a point as I arch my back to give him better access. He growls his approval, still filling me over and over in a rhythm that scatters every thought in my head and leaves me breathless and teetering on the edge.
My whole body begins to tighten as he drags out the pleasure. “Kade, I—” Words fail me as pleasure crests, washing over me in rippling waves, and I can only hold on as he groans and pushes harder into me. A moment later, I’m rolled onto my belly and he’s pushing into me from behind, every frantic, hungry motion leaving me feeling so delicious, so desired, so damn sexy. I love it when he can’t hold back.
I feel him swell, feel his hands tighten on my hips as he pulls me into him and pushes home in one sharp, forceful motion that leaves a pool of warmth between my hips. I can feel us dripping onto my thigh, and I gasp in an attempt to catch my breath. He’s quick to gather me up into his arms and look me in the eyes, worry darkening there.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“I’m ready to go again,” I whisper, and he chuckles.
In the aftermath, as our breathing slows and our sweat-slicked bodies still, there's a sense of peace that blankets us. Kade's eyes meet mine, soft now, vulnerable in a way that I’ve never seen him share with anyone else. And I know, without doubt, that this is where I belong.
“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers, the words a tradition now that extends from the present to all the nights to come.
“Always,” I promise, because home isn't a location; it's wherever Kade is.
I’m on the brink of sleep as he scoops me up again. I’m carried out onto the porch and to the swing. Looking up, I see through the clear plastic roofing to the stars above. The cool night air surrounds me, but Kade wraps me up in my fuzzy blanket.
The porch swing creaks gently as I snuggle into him. Stars scatter across the inky sky like diamond dust on velvet, and the world feels quiet and safe.