Page 88 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

Never in my life had a kiss meant so much. I gave in, surrendering to this woman’s soft lips and the slick of her tongue against mine. She clung to me as I clung to her, the softness of her body pressed into my hard lines.

This was her. This was my Clara.

And I’d kiss her every day for the rest of my life.

I scooped her up so her toes were dangling above the carpet, then I walked us to her bedroom, laying her on the bed. Covering her with my body.

Her hands came to my face, holding me to her lips, as my hands roamed down the silk of her top and shorts to the bare skin of her legs. I kneaded the flesh of her toned thighs. I drew my fingers along the back of her knee in a featherlight touch.

When she began to tremble, I forced myself to break away, going to the door and closing it quietly before flipping the lock. The sight that greeted me on the bed when I turned sent all my blood rushing to my groin.

Clara was seated on the edge of the bed. The lust in her eyes darkened them to chocolate pools. The faint light from the street outside seeped through the sheer curtains, acting like moonlight on her flawless skin.

She reached for the hem of her shirt, slowly gathering it in her hands. Then she dragged it over her head, tossing it to the floor.

My mouth went dry. Her rosy nipples were peaked and the desperation to feel them under my palms sent me flying across the room, dropping to my knees before her.

“You are beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” I slid my hands up her ribs, savoring the moan that escaped her lips. Then I found her breasts in my palms, letting them fill my hands as I raked my thumbs over her nipples.

Clara’s back arched, pressing herself further into my touch. The silk of her skin was intoxicating, and tonight, I’d touch every inch. I’d lick and worship because she was mine.

“Say it again,” I said, urging her down to the mattress. When that hair was splayed beneath her, I ran my hands down the swell of her hips, hooking my fingers into the shorts and the panties beneath. Then I pulled them from her legs, inch by torturous inch.

Her breath hitched when they landed on the floor. She lay bare and perfect, her gaze locked on mine.

I swallowed a groan. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

The corner of her mouth turned up as she pushed up on her elbows, moving backward until she reached the pillows. Then she crooked a finger, beckoning me to the bed. Did she have any idea the power she had over me?

I reached behind me to yank my T-shirt over my head. My flip-flops crashed to the carpet as Clara’s gaze dropped down my stomach to the hem of my jeans. I flipped open the button, then dragged down the zipper. I shoved the pants and my black boxer briefs over my thighs, my erection bobbing free. Then I wrapped a fist around my shaft.

Clara watched as I gave it a long stroke, her eyes glued to my cock. Her cheeks were pink, her breaths heavy. “Karson.”

I stayed at the foot of the bed.

“I don’t have a condom.” It was a fucking shame because what I wanted most was to sink inside her. To forget where I started and she began. But I’d make her come tonight, with my fingers and my tongue. “I’ve always used one. Always.”

“I, um . . . not since Devan.”

Fuck me. I didn’t like that son of a bitch’s name anywhere near a naked Clara, but knowing that she’d been without a man since was a damn rush because I’d be the last lover in her life.

“You sure?”

“I don’t want to wait.” She gave me a sheepish smile. “But I’m not on birth control.”

Fuck, but she was shredding me here. “Your call, baby.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

I crawled to her, hovering above her body. The intensity of her gaze was nearly my undoing as her hips cradled mine and my cock rested against her center.

“I want you to have my kids.” Apparently, I had no filter tonight. Confession after confession streamed out.

Her eyes flared.