Untouchable (Untouchables, 1)

“I just want to touch you,” I tell him gently.

My heart hammers in my chest as he regards me skeptically, but I suppose he decides if I’m lying and I slap him, it’s nothing he can’t handle. He releases my hand to see what I’ll do with it.

My hand trembles slightly, but I bring it to his face, caressing his strong jaw. I bring my other hand up to the other side of his face and draw him closer. He lets me. I drag him closer until his forehead is resting against mine, then I kiss the corner of his mouth. He stiffens, but doesn’t pull away. Understandably, he doesn’t know what the hell is happening, but I keep at it. I keep touching his face, I kiss the other corner of his mouth.

His voice is low, more a grumble than anything. “What are you doing, Ellis?”

Ellis, not Zoey. He calls me Ellis when he’s keeping me at a distance.

Instead of answering him with words, I kiss his upper lip, then his lower lip. Before I can decide whether or not I want to kiss him fully on the mouth, he takes the decision out of my hands, claiming my lips aggressively, pushing me into the mattress as his hand moves to cup my breast. He squeezes while he kisses me, harder, faster, much more powerfully than the tiny kisses I was giving him.

Something stirs inside me, and this time it’s not fear. This time it’s something a little dizzying that knocks me off kilter. His tongue demands entrance to my mouth. I’ve never been kissed this way before, but I open my mouth on a gasp and he sweeps in, his tongue tangling with mine. I’m lost in a sea of sensation already, then his hand slips under the waistband of my panties.

“Wait,” I cry, breaking the kiss. “Carter, please don’t hurt me.”

“Sh,” he murmurs against my lips. “I won’t. Just relax. I want to make you feel good.”

I don’t trust him, but I try not to let him feel that. I draw in a shaky breath and meet his gaze, searching for something to believe in. His big hand covers me again, this time without the thin barrier of my panties.

Not allowing me time to think or doubt, his lips claim mine again. This kiss is hard and hot—it’s a brand and a drug all in one, marking me as ruined, then dragging me under so that I don’t care. I struggle to hold onto sanity, but Carter pushes his finger inside me, gently caressing me, tempting me to follow him instead. I gasp against his mouth. He catches my bottom lip between his and bites—not hard, but enough to startle me. He strokes my clit and I moan, my eyes rolling back, my chest working.

He leaves a trail of rough kisses along my jaw, making his way to my neck, fingering me all the while. I’m a mess of stimulated nerve endings, crying out and trembling, chills of arousal hitting me on and off. I can’t even think, I can only want. Need. Feel.

“Carter,” I cry. I don’t even know why, I don’t know what I want to ask for.

“Feel good, princess?”

With my eyes closed, I nod my head. “Yeah.”

“You want more?”

If I had the ability to think, I might consider what ‘more’ might entail and give him a resounding no, but I can’t think, I can only feel, and what I feel is a building tension inside my body, a need I can’t describe. It’s like he’s using his finger to drive me crazy and I’ll explode without some outlet. Instead of saying no, I nod.

Carter chuckles, kissing me softly, like he finds me adorable. “You really haven’t let anyone touch you before, have you? You’ve just been waiting for me to find you.”

I spread my legs wider, moving against his hand. “Carter, please…”

“Please what, princess? Tell me what you want.”

I shake my head, already flushed with all he’s doing to my body, so at least I can’t blush more.

“You want me to make you come?” he asks.

Licking my lips, I nod my head. My heart falters as I do, but I’m so close, I can feel it sneaking up on me. I need him to take me the rest of the way. I need it. “Please,” I whisper.

“Mm, anything for you, princess,” he hums against my lips, before claiming them again. His tongue sweeps into my mouth as his finger moves fast against my clit and I feel myself starting to come apart. In the same way he dismantled my shirt by drawing out the laces, he plays with me, teasing that sensitive place inside me like he knows just how to set me free.

And then he does. I cry out, helpless to keep the sounds in as pleasure so intense that I want to weep bursts open inside me. I moan and cry out against his mouth, the sharp pleasure taking its time moving through me. Oh, God, it feels incredible.