I’m kissing him, my man, Preston. The man of my dreams.
He groans and smooths his hands up to my shoulders, squeezing on tightly. I never thought we’d kiss tonight.
And, if the world turned upside down and we did, I assumed it would be at the end of the date.
I haven’t had time to mentally prepare myself, to think about what I’m going to do if he wants to take things further.
He slides his hands down my body, smoothing them over my dress, gripping my hips tightly. I whimper when I feel his fingers digging into my skin through my dress. Surely this is the part where he yanks his hands away, lips curled in disgust.
But he sinks his fingers deeper, as though basking in how curvy I am.
Our tongues make contact, and a warm sensation floods my body. Under the table, I close my legs tightly against the pulsing need in my core, as I think about what would happen if I gave in to the lust.
Just kissing him has my instincts telling me to run away.
I’m not sure what I’ll do if he tries to take the next step.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Preston
This isn’t the time or place to let all this pressure out. She just got done telling me about how she witnessed the murder of her father. I can still feel her tears against my cheek, though she’s stopped crying now.
I should be tender, affectionate.
Maybe the kiss was a mistake.
I can’t even remember who initiated it, exactly. It was like a magnet was pulling us together, like we had no choice in it, our instincts overwhelming our ability to think clearly.
She tastes so good. And the way she moves her mouth is even sweeter, as though she’s shy, but she doesn’t want to be.
She makes a whimpering sound, filling my cock with even more heat. I’m fit to bursting, my balls swelling, my thoughts racing. There’s so much hunger flaring between us, in every small movement of our lips, in every contact.
I dig my hands deeper into her hips. She couldn’t be sexier if she tried, with her voluptuous curves and innocent presence. She gasps as one of my hands slides down her hip and then up between her legs.
This isn’t right. We’re in public, even if we’re alone, even if nobody’s watching.
The idea of somebody seeing her like this tears me up inside. I’d go full beast if any motherfucker saw her now.
Which is why I need to stop.
But I can’t. My cock is pushing too forcefully against my pants. My seed is roaring too loudly at me to keep going. It’s primal, stripped of anything civilized, every emotion other than need is gone.
I’m an animal, and I just know she’s going to be soaked for me. I can feel it in her kiss, her urgency.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. I didn’t even know an obsession like this existed.
She reaches down as I slip my hand under the hem of her dress, softly touching my wrist.
I pause, breaking off the kiss with effort. It’s harder than anything I’ve ever done in my life. It physically hurts to break contact with her.
“What is it?” I rasp.
I know what it is. We’re in public. This is too sudden. She didn’t plan on me making such a bold move so soon.
She shakes her head with a soft whining noise, like the lustful part of her won’t listen to reason, just like me.
I take that as a sign to keep going. Not that I feel like I have much of a choice.
The second she shakes her head and releases my wrist, I begin to glide my hand up her thigh, slipping under her dress. Her skin is warm to the touch, getting warmer the closer I get to her sex.
It’s like her body is guiding me to the place I belong. Her kisses become stilted when I brush my fingertips against her panties like she can’t focus on both things at the same time.
I lean back, studying her twitching body, the twist to her lips like she can’t decide whether to scream at me to stop, to not do this here, or to tell me to bend her over. To yank her dress up and reveal those big juicy globes of her ass, and then just hammer her, drive into her over and over until she’s a shivering heap of pleasure.
“Will anybody come in?” she whispers, glancing at the door.
There it is, a clear sign I should stop. If somebody did walk in here I’m not sure I’d be able to contain my rage, even if it wouldn’t be their fault. The idea of there being another man who’s seen my woman like this, her thick luscious thighs revealed with her dress hiked up around her hips, makes me want to break something.