Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, did he ever kiss me.
It was a devouring kiss, a hungry kiss, a demanding, a claiming, a merciless kiss. He crushed me to him and swept his tongue into my mouth, leaving me no chance to breathe or recover or think.
And it went on and on. Martin dipped his head to one side then the next, his hands roaming over my body, grabbing and squeezing and reaching for the hem of my dress, sliding his hand against the soft silk. It was only when his fingers connected with the straps of my garter belt did he lift his head and let me breathe. And that was only because he wanted to release a string of expletives as he confirmed I was, in fact, wearing thigh highs; and I was, in fact, wearing lacy panties.
“Fuck me,” he finished, his eyes moving back to mine, turbulent yet determined.
Meanwhile I was trying catch my breath. “Martin, I—”
“Parker, I fucking love you. I’ve always loved you. I never stopped.”
I could hardly believe his words. I felt suddenly weightless, overwhelmed, and bursting with such intense levels of joy I just barely contained my instinctual desire to do a jig.
He continued, sounding stern yet tender, “And you really, really pissed me off when you left tonight.”
“I’m sorry I did that.” I nodded, smiling because I was level one million happy.
“I forgive you.” He returned my grin.
This made me frown. I wasn’t the only one who’d been an idiot, so I pointed at his chest with my finger. “But, in all fairness, you ordered an appetizer.”
“So?”
“So? So I tell you I love you and you order escargot.”
Martin, still grinning, bent and kissed my neck, then bit it. It hurt a little and it felt wonderful. His breath was hot against my skin. “You shocked the hell out of me. I didn’t know. I had no idea. I never know what you’re thinking. You hide everything behind those gorgeous gray eyes…”
I’d missed his sharp teeth and leaned my head to one side to give him better access, pressed against him. I couldn’t think. All I knew was we were in a closet kissing, his amorous hands were up my skirt, and the figurative Bunsen burner in my pants demanded satisfaction.
“Martin—”
“There has been no one else since you. No one.” His mouth was hot on my skin, devouring me. “You’re all I think about, all I want. You are everything.”
Oh, gah! Right in the feels!
I braced my hands against his chest before he could capture my mouth again, needing to tell him the whole truth. “Listen, wait, I know we have a lot to discuss and this is all very sudden, but—”
“Sudden?” He reeled back a bit. His contemptuous tone and slightly horrified expression told me he disagreed.
“Yes, I mean—one minute we’re friends, or we’re working on being friends, and the next minute I’m telling you I’m still in love with you…” I searched his eyes, made sure he was really looking at me. I wanted him to understand this wasn’t temporary, that my feelings weren’t going to change. “But, you need to know, this wasn’t sudden for me. I made up my mind last week, after you explained things in New York, but before you came to the coffee shop. I want to be with you. I don’t want to be just friends. That’s not going to work for me.”
His mouth hitched to the side and his hands on me tightened. “Kaitlyn, I decided we were never going to be just friends the moment you walked into chemistry lab last year. We were never going to be just friends. That wasn’t ever going to work.”
“But. But. You said—”
“I lied.”
My mouth fell open.
He shrugged, showing me he did not regret this lie. “I was tired of waiting. I needed you to forgive me, show you I’ve changed, but I knew you wouldn’t listen to me if I showed up at your door and demanded we get back together—which is what I wanted to do. Christmas was extremely frustrating because I saw you were taking my offer of friendship seriously, and you were trying to do the right thing.”
“I did take it seriously. I wanted to be your safe place,” I admitted with a new rush of emotion that stung my eyes. “I love you, I care about you, and I wanted to be there for you even if you didn’t love me… But my pants kept getting in the way.”
Martin smiled very briefly at the mention of my pants, but then he scowled. His tone became fierce and angry as he leaned farther away. “Don’t ever think that I never loved you.”
“I—”
“When you said that to me in New York, when you told me you didn’t think I’d ever loved you, I swear to God I wanted to strangle you. I’ve never felt like such a failure.”
“Oh, Martin, I promise, I didn’t say it to hurt you. I didn’t.” It was important he believe me.
“I know. You didn’t think I cared. I figured that out later, when you were asleep on top of me on the couch, after I acted like a fuckwad and suggested sex with no strings, wanting to hurt you back. I am sorry about that,” he whispered, sounding truly remorseful.
Yet his hands, having now lifted my skirt completely over my hips, were currently taking liberties with the bare skin of my torso, my back, and delving into the lace of my underwear.
“I forgive you,” I gasped, a hot cascade of chaotic need coursing through me, everywhere he touched igniting my arousal. My movements became jerky and frantic as I pushed away his jacket and coat, and grabbed for his zipper.
“Kaitlyn—”
“Everything is forgiven,” I added in a rush, tired of talking. We weren’t friends—well, we were friends. But now we would never be just friends. There was no reason we couldn’t get started being more than friends.
Right. This. Second.
Martin caught my wrists, halting my progress, his breathing labored. “No, no—we’re not doing this yet.”
“But I need you, I need to feel you,” I whined.
“Don’t—”
I tried a different approach, lowering my voice and cupping his erection through his pants. “I love you. I want to make love to you. I need you inside me.”
Martin groaned inelegantly, a despairing, needy sound. Pressing his lips against mine, he silenced me with the hot slide of his mouth, his invading tongue. Martin brought my hands to his sides and trapped them there.
My heart soared even as my lower belly flip-flopped then twisted with erotic anticipation. He released my wrists and one of his hands moved on my thigh and between my legs, shifting the lace panties to one side so he could touch my center. I inhaled sharply, arching at the contact, my eyes half closing.
“So wet for me…I love how you feel. I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He sounded mesmerized and a little vicious. “Tell me how much you need me.”
I couldn’t form words because…sex.
“Say it.” He paired this demand with a stroke of his finger. I realized he was unbuckling the belt of his pants with his other hand.
I shuddered in response to his skilled fingers, having to hold onto him “I need you, I need you so much,” I barely managed to say.
I felt the words.
I felt them to my bones.
I never wanted to be separated from him again.
He was pressing me against the coats and my hands wound around his neck. His pants dropped to the floor, leaving him in boxer briefs. I reached for them frantically and pushed them down, freeing his penis.
I gripped it. Stroked it twice. I felt it, and it felt amazing, and right, and crucial.
He hissed, “You’re still on birth control, yes?”
I nodded, rocking my hips into his hand, feeling him there, needing more.
He kissed my lips harshly, then said against them, “I haven’t been with anyone but you. Not since the boat. Not for months before that. I haven’t wanted anyone but you. I never want to be with anyone but you. You’re all I can think about. Just you, only you.”
I moaned. The time for coherent thought had officially passed. I understood what he was saying so I nodded my head, giving him permission to do what I’d been fantasizing about since it first happened.
“Please…please.” I rubbed against him, wanting to completely give myself over to passion.
“I’m sorry I have to do this,” he said. His voice held true regret. He then proceeded to tear my new lace underwear in two.
I didn’t have time to react because the next thing he did was grab my bottom, lift me up, and turn my back against the wall. He then brought me down, filling me in one swift stroke. He rocked back then filled me again with another inelegant thrust of his hips, pinning me to the wall, spreading my legs wide, to his satisfaction.
My head fell to his shoulder. I closed my eyes. I felt.
I felt myself adjust to him.
I felt him stretch me.
The beautiful friction his body made with mine.
I felt my love for him, and my desire, asphyxiate and overwhelm me.
I felt our combined passion for each other and the insanity of it, how mad and reckless we were.
“Say it again.” He moved in then out, slowly at first, but then increasing the tempo to a punishing pace. “Tell me again.”
I knew what he wanted. “I love you.”
“I want you in so many ways, so many ways—”