Kismet (Happy Endings 3) - Page 53

No matter the cost.

Now, though, I’m not contemplating costs. I’m only thinking of where we are and how the hell to get to what’s next. Because what’s next is inevitable.

I need to get out of here and take her to my home, yet the prospect of ending this kiss is awful. I don’t want to stop it for anything. And so, I don’t. I take. I take everything I’ve wanted for the last month, more of her soft lips, her decadent mouth.

Our lips fuse together, hungry, heated, and just a little bit desperate.

It’s fantastic agony.

Pleasure skates down my spine as my hands rope through her hair. Those silky tresses are curled around my fingers, where they belong.

I hold her and kiss her, our tongues exploring, lips returning, bodies craving.

Somehow, I find the will to break the kiss.

I stare at her, drinking in the sight of her face. Her eyes shimmer with wild desire that I alone can satisfy. I brush tender, gentle kisses against her bruised mouth, licking the corner of her lips, kissing the edge of her smile, then whispering against her skin, “Your place or mine? And that’s not a pickup line.”

She laughs softly, her hands snaking around my waist, grabbing my ass, yanking me tighter against her. “You mean here and now up against the church isn’t an option?”

I run the backs of my knuckles down her cheek. “For you. I would commit that sin.”

“But is it really a sin?”

“It will be a sin if I’m not making love to you in the next thirty minutes.”

Her eyes, those blue eyes I adore, sparkle with mischief. “Whichever one is closer, Heath.”

Fifteen minutes later, I unlock the door to my building. The second we’re inside, I can’t even wait to get up the stairs. In the hallway, I tug her against me, and then we spin around, so I can pin her against the wall. We’re frenzied as we crash into each other once more.

Her fingers rake through my hair. My hands glide down her body, cupping her breasts through her blouse, squeezing them.

She wrenches away from me, her mouth parting, unleashing a deliriously sexy moan. “I need to be alone with you right now.”

I curl a hand around the back of her head, yank her against me. “And naked.”

“Well, yes. That.”

I let go of her, take her hand, and we walk up the first set of steps, then a second flight, then a third.

“My God, how many flights do you have?”

“Too many at the moment,” I tell her, but then we’re at the door of my flat. I unlock it, swing it open, let her in, and close the door behind us.

I scoop her up, carry her to the couch, and undress her in a rush. I can’t even bother with her blouse. Just have to get this skirt up, these knickers off.

She helps me along, kicking the scrap of white lace to the floor, then spreading her legs. She reaches for me, threads her hands in my hair, and I kneel between her glorious thighs. She arches her back, moaning, and my lips haven’t even grazed her skin.

I just can’t stop staring at how gorgeous she is, how wet she is. “Beautiful,” I murmur. “I could worship you.”

“Please,” she says. “Please touch me, Heath. I’ll keep begging until you do.”

With a grin, I turn my face, brush my stubbled jaw against the inside of her knee, press a tender kiss to her skin. “You never have to beg me unless you want to. I will always give you what you want.”

She sighs, long and greedy, tugging at my hair. “Give me you. I need you,” she says, utterly desperate.

I want to take my time, and I also want to devour her. These twin desires war in me as I pepper kisses along the inside of her leg, up her thigh, along her creamy skin, delighting in the taste of her, the smell of her.

My senses ignite at every kiss.

My mind swirls with heady desire.

When I near her sweet center, she arches her hips, her hands scrabbling through my hair to bring me closer. Perhaps I do want to tease her, just to make it last.

“I’ll get you there,” I whisper against her skin, heading in the other direction, down the opposite leg, as her need goes to my head.

My mind crackles as the potent reality sinks in. All these weeks of getting to know her, all these days with her, all these nights wanting her—they’re colliding into this one perfect moment of desire, heat, and, love.

I can finally have the woman I love.

In one swift move, I slide my hands under her ass, and haul her against my mouth, pressing an openmouthed caress right there, where she wants me most.

She tastes incredible, like dirty dreams and beautiful promises.

Tags: Lauren Blakely Happy Endings Romance
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