Page 140 of Dream House
We can’t have that.
I cross the room in four strides and cage her against the locked door. Now that we’re here, I’m going to worship her the way I’ve wanted to for weeks.
At my sudden approach, she locks eyes with me, her gaze expectant, eager, and anxious all at once. She licks her lips and whispers, “We have to be quiet.”
“I can be quiet.”
Her gaze shifts to the bed behind me, and I don’t need any clearer invitation, but I also want to make the most of this position, her tucked against the door. Me surrounding her. I drop my lips to her ear and inhale her scent.
I close my eyes, sure that it’s pure life I’m breathing in.
“You smell amazing,” I whisper.
She exhales and turns her head, seeking my mouth. I let her have it for two tasting kisses, but then I cup her chin and angle her face to one side. When my lips touch her neck, she shivers deliciously. I hear the shake in her breath and feel the quiver of her body down my front.
If there’s such a thing as deep neck kissing, that’s what I do. Her hands fly to my ribs, and it feels like she’s holding on. My hands shift from the wall to her waist, and then to her ass. She goes limp in my arms, but she’s not going anywhere.
I’ve got her.
I make love to her neck, andSoft Stellatakes on a whole new meaning.
I want to give this to her every night. Every day. I want to kiss her until she turns into a puddle of desire right in my arms.
It’s only when she lets out a soft, plaintive moan—as if asking for mercy—that I hike her up. As if we’ve choreographed it, her legs fly around my waist and she clings tighter to me.
It’s a short walk to the bed. A little too short. I could get used to this, carrying her around, clasped to me.
I could do it for hours.
When I lay her down on the bed, her flower crown slips off, and her skirt settles at her thighs, leaving her looking wild and willing to a maddening degree. Her eyes are dilated pools edged in that iridescent green, her lips flushed and full even though I’ve barely kissed her.
That’s something I pledge to remedy.
When I lower over her, she reaches up to me and pulls me down to her mouth, her kiss demanding. The realization that she wants me hits me all over again. I can’t believe I’m this lucky. I can’t believe that I’m the one who gets to be right here.
As if she reads my mind, Stella breaks our kiss, panting, her eyes latching to mine.
“I’m crazy about you.”
I swallow hard. Her admission feels like Christmas morning.
What if Ilikewho you are?
“I’m fucking batshit about you,” I confess, an ache like a broken bone that’s been set to heal in my chest. Better now that she’s close but tender all the same.
The look in her eyes turns wistful. “I’ve missed you,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.
And that ache breaks open again. Fresh agony. I almost groan.
“I missed you,” I say, throat tight, thinking about the self-imposed prison I’ve watched her from for the last ten days, “like you wouldn’t believe.”
She has to know it’s the truth. I need her to know that every time I saw her, every time I thought of her—fucking all the time—I wanted to touch her. I wanted to claim her.
And what held me back was the fear of hurting her. The warnings from Nina and Tyler.Stella deserves better than that.
Translation:Stella deserves better than you.
And I don’t disagree.
