Page 117 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘Who’s stopping you?’ I ask, as my fingers drift down, pushing into his underwear, curling around his erection. He pumps into my hand with a needy growl, and I smile against his mouth. ‘Shhh,’ I murmur.

‘You think you’re so funny,’ he mutters, something dangerous sparking in his eyes. ‘Let’s see who’s laughing when I’m inside you and you’re the one trying not to scream my name.’

‘Promises, promises…’ My words are swallowed up by his kiss, and then his hands are everywhere. There’s no part of me that’s left untended. It’s chaotic in the best way. He keeps getting distracted by something new: Did I know how soft my skin is in this precise spot behind my ear? Did I know the freckles on my back are shaped like the Eridanus constellation? Did I know – as he licks across my pulse – that my wrists have been a real problem for him? I’m so pretty everywhere, he tells me, I’m delicious, he claims, as he tastes and samples and takes. I smell like honey and I feel like I was made for him.

When he finally rolls on a condom and slides into me I’m a mess; shuddering, pressing my face into his neck, trying desperately not to make a noise.

He stretches over me, opening the nightstand, a smirk on his lips, and moments later he reaches between us, sliding the vibrator over my clit while he’s inside me. The movement of his hips presses the toy harder against my over-sensitised flesh, the flicker of the air pressure pulses in a relentless rhythm and I’m so full of him, stretched to the limit, right on the edge of pain.

My control is a fraying ribbon, a thousand broken threads. He grinds into me, and the pressure on my clit is devastating. It takes about five insane seconds before I’m coming harder than I ever have in my life. I bite down on his shoulder, completely unravelling as I feel him fall over the edge with me.

‘God, that was incredible,’ he murmurs when we finally return to earth, when the aftershocks of my orgasm are tingling through my heavy limbs.

‘Think how amazing we’ll be with some practice,’ I agree.

He lifts an eyebrow. ‘We need practice?’

‘It does make perfect,’ I say primly.

He smiles, a wolf smile, leaning in to kiss me again. ‘Then by all means. Let’s get started.’

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Nico

The next morning I wake up in bed alone. I stretch against the sheets, my hand resting in the space where Lee was curled up, sleeping against me. The pillow smells like honey and my entire body is aching. We crashed out after round three last night, and there’s a deep, heavy satisfaction in my limbs. I want her again, I want her now, and it’s a hunger that scares me.

I drag myself up, jump in the shower and pull on my clothes. When I open the bedroom door, Lee and Phoebe are in the kitchen and the smell of bacon fills the air. No wonder Taco is sitting hopefully at Lee’s feet. There’s music on the speaker, a Disney soundtrack that Phoebe has been playing relentlessly lately.

‘Hey, Dad,’ Phoebe says, waving a spatula in my direction. ‘We’re making pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes. And bacon.’

My stomach rumbles. Lee looks at me over her shoulder and smiles. She’s wearing those pink cat pyjamas again. Her feet are bare. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

‘I thought you didn’t know how to make pancakes?’ I say, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the pot that Lee has made and grabbing a seat at the table. Look at me, I’m so civilised. I feel like a wild creature pretending to be a normal human man.

‘I don’t, but I found a recipe online,’ she replies, frowning as she ladles batter into the pan.

‘And there’s nothing gross in them at all,’ Phoebe is gleeful. ‘They’re just regular pancakes, and they’re delicious.’

‘Phoebe had to try the first one,’ Lee explains. ‘Just to be safe. And because it was wonky.’

Phoebe nods solemnly. ‘I took one for the team.’

‘Okay,’ Lee says to her now, ‘I see bubbles, let’s flip.’

She moves aside and holds the pan so that Phoebe can get in and carefully flip the pancake over, her tongue held between her teeth as she concentrates. Obviously the two of them have a system.

I want this every morning for the rest of my life.

It’s quite the realisation, and I sit frozen in my seat, letting that sink in, as the two of them laugh and talk. Did my entire world just get turned upside down over a chocolate chip pancake?

‘… and then we did line dancing,’ I finally tune back in to hear Lee say.

‘Dad danced?’ Phoebe groans. ‘Did other people see? That is so embarrassing.’

‘He did pretty well, actually.’ Lee slides a plate of pancakes and crispy bacon in front of me.

‘I was terrible,’ I say, trying to pull myself together. ‘But not all of us are former ballerinas.’