Page 78 of A Love Most Fatal
No other words are needed before I pull her mouth to mine again.
She’s feverish this time, her lips moving over mine, her tongue pressing into my mouth, and I’m right there with her, meeting her at every stride, pushing against her and pulling her to me. She takes her hand from mine before wrapping her arms around my neck. I duck so she can hug her legs around my waist and then slide her on the granite counter. She gasps at the cold stone on her bare thighs but doesn’t stop kissing me.
My hands roam around her back beneath her shirt. It’s dizzying to feel the expanse of soft skin I’d thought of all night with her in that damn dress.
“Fuck, Vanessa.” I slide my palm down her spine. I think I may be able to fuel enough sexual fantasies for a year from just the memory of feeling her bare back while she sits in her tiny pajama shorts on the counter in front of me.
“More,” she whines, and it sends me feral. I’m engulfing her, trying to pull her as close to me as possible, trying to swallow her whole. She bites my lip, and it issues a moaning sound I’ve certainly never made before.
I want her closer, so I start unbuttoning her shirt until it’s all the way open and I have to stop for a moment to just take in what I see beneath. Her stomach is tight, defined with muscles I’ve seen many times in the gym, but her tits—holy fuck—they’re somehow better than my mind had painted them because now they’re real, the size of ripe grapefruits, pink nipples that are hard and pointy and so, so tempting that I don’t even fight the urge to bring one into my mouth.
She arches her back, pressing her chest against my face with these little labored breaths sounding from her. I suck my way up to her throat and then her jaw, sloppily lapping at her skin until she tugs my hair up so we can make out some more. She’s grinding against my front where I am unbearably hard through my sweatpants, and I squeeze my eyes shut not to come right this very second.
“You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” I say. “It’s barely human how much I want you.”
“Have me,” she says. “Please, right now.”
I pick her up off the counter and she gives a little yelp before wrapping her legs again tightly around my middle.
We kiss, little fast kisses on the mouth as I walk over to the door to let in Ranger who’s been pawing at it. He circles at my feet, and we break long enough for Vanessa to laugh.
“Put me down, I can walk,” she says. I do as she says, and am about to guide her straight upstairs, when I see the dustpan still spilling glass on the tile.
“Lock Ranger upstairs and I’ll meet you there.”
Vanessa pulls my mouth down to hers for one more searing kiss before leaving me to do what I said. My boner is ridiculousas I gather up the glass as quickly as possible and deposit the shards into the trash. I’ll do another pass in the morning.
I’ve only been in Vanessa’s room once; the time Artie and Angel were sick and I sat next to her while she fell asleep. Now, as I stalk inside, it’s just her here, and she’s pulling closed her curtains. Only lamps are clicked on, and the space is cozy and inviting.
Once I gently shut the door behind me, she turns around and we watch each other, miles of plush carpet between us. Her shirt is buttoned only a couple of times, the buttons in the wrong holes, and her face is flushed pink.
“Tomorrow, we forget about this,” she says, and I nod. Then shake my head.
“I will probably never, ever forget.” I stare at the spot between her breasts where her shirt hangs open. “But I will pretend.”
“Like it never happened,” she says.
I am like a malfunctioning machine, unable to think of anything other thanVanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa, but I jerk my head into a nod.
This settles it.
We both move across the room towards each other like magnets, meeting in the middle where she leaps on me. The taste of her is ludicrous, it’s making me dizzy and ravenous, I am sliding my tongue into her mouth in the least graceful kiss I’ve ever had, as eager as I was in high school, and she’s meeting me and matching me at each turn.
My hands, too, are gliding all over her body, trying to memorize her curves like if I don’t touch every part of her now, I never will again.
“The bed,” she says between kisses, and I bring her there without having to be asked twice. She falls back onto thecomforter with a huff, but keeps kissing me, reaching up to meet my mouth as I crawl over her.
She pulls my shirt up over my head and I shakily undo the last two buttons on her top before throwing it across the room.
I think I whimper, the sound that comes from me is involuntary and needy as I take in her tits again.
“Have them,” she says. “Whatever you want.”
I’m distracted cycling through a rolodex of “whatever I want” scenarios, but we only have tonight, I remind myself.
Only tonight, and that will be the end of it.
We will both be satisfied, and we can go on knowing what just once felt like.