He stares at me with such reverence, like I’m the eighth wonder of the world. Like I’m the greatest art he’s ever seen. The power it gives me is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s addictive, intoxicating, and I suddenly crave to be marveled at like this for all my days.
Kolter hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my panties, working them down my legs before letting them fall to the floor. He lowers himself with them, pausing when his face is level with the apex of my thighs. Slowly, he lifts one of my legs and wraps it around his shoulder before nuzzling his face against the crease in my thigh and inhaling.
I shudder at the feel of his breath on my skin, goosebumps racing across my body as that cool gaze meets my own. Withoutbreaking our eye contact, he flattens his tongue and slowly licks through me. The sensation has me bucking against him and a moan tearing out of my chest.
I don’t know if the others can hear me. We aren’t exactly alone in this place, so I should try to be at least a little discreet. When Kolter does it again and again, though, I know there’s no concealing anything. I’m a goner for Kolter Mayhew, and I don’t care who knows it.
He expertly works me over with his tongue, licking and sucking in just the right way and leaving me a shaking mess. One of my hands reaches down, for stability I think, and fists his thick black hair. He moans in response and buries his face deeper between my thighs, his mouth latching on to my clit. My mouth drops open, and then with another pass of his tongue, I’m splintering apart.
“Oh my God! Oh! Oh!” I scream, covering my mouth as my orgasm slams into me like an uncontrollable freight train.
As my pleasure eases, Kolter pulls his mouth away and stands slowly, his eyes staying on me as he rises to his full height. My breathing is still ragged as I attempt to recover—though how do I recover from something like… that?
For a moment, I’m not sure what his next move will be. He’s the most unpredictable man in the most predictable circumstances, so all I can do is breathe and watch.
Kolter’s expression is practically undecipherable as his eyes flick back and forth between mine. Then he lifts a hand, gently cupping my cheek before bringing his lips to mine once more. It’s not an impassioned, hurried kiss like before. It’s not a result of years of tension breaking down into one moment of acceptance. It’s soft, tender, so featherlight I almost think I imagine it.
His lips ghost over my own as he rests his forehead against mine. “That should have been our first moment. The first time I touched you, it should have felt like that.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I do my best to steady my voice.
“It was perfect. Both times. Every time,” I ramble breathlessly like an idiot.
He doesn’t look at me like I’m one, though. No matter how quirky or awkward I feel, Kolter has always looked at me as if I hung the moon and the stars. He listens like every word I speak is the next great epic. Like my every thought is the answer our world has been desperate for. It’s an incredibly comforting feeling that I didn’t know I missed so much. It’s more than being cared for, deeper than affection. With him, it’s something else entirely.
His arms slip beneath my legs once, then he lifts me into the air and begins walking us out of the shower. He doesn’t reach for a towel despite his water-logged pants dripping profusely. He doesn’t even attempt to grab anything to cover me. Instead, he opens the bathroom door, turns so that I’m completely hidden from anyone who might be in the hallway then moves into a different bedroom than the one we were in earlier.
Kolter kicks the door shut behind us before carrying me to the bed. He pulls the blankets back, sets me down carefully, then shucks off his soaked shoes, pants and boxers and climbs in beside me. I expect there to be more kissing or touching; I’m preparing my extremely sore vagina for the reality of a round two. But none of it happens.
Instead, we just lie there, me wrapped up in Kolter’s embrace, which is so tight I couldn’t move an inch if I tried.
I don’t know how long we lie there in silence before I finally look up to find him frowning at the blank wall.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He snaps free of whatever deep thoughts were plaguing him and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Nothing. It’s just… you shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I shouldn’t have gone to the club. I’ve tried for so long to keep you and our family safe. Away from all this,” he says, gesturing around the room. “Yet here we are.” He lets out a raspy laugh that holds no humor.
I ready myself for the blow that’s sure to come. “So you don’t want me here?” I ask tentatively.
“No,” he answers quickly.
Is it stupid that my throat is already tightening and my eyes are beginning to blur with unshed tears? I accepted his rejection years ago; I coped and moved on, though the circumstances were much different then. Years ago, he ghosted our family; slipped away into the night without a word, but now I know what it feels like to be held by him. To be kissed, touched. And I have a feeling the recovery process won’t be the same at all. Though, if I’m being honest, I’m not sure it’s possible to recover from a heartbreak like this.
His large hand cups my face, forcing me to look at him. “I love you, Peaches. I’ve loved you before I even understood what that word meant. I stayed away for years because I thought it was what was best.”
I swallow roughly and nod.
“I can’t do it anymore, though. I don’t want to. A life without you isn’t one worth living. So even if it’s the most selfish goddamn thing I’ve ever done in my life, I’m not walking away again. Ever.”
It takes me a moment to comprehend his words.
“You mean it?” I whisper, like a pleading hope.
“With my last breath,” he vows, his words inking their way into my soul.
Chapter Seventeen
Naomi