Meet Cute by Elise Faber (buy e reader .txt) 📕

with desire, with need, with heat. Her tongue wasn’t shy. It slipped between my lips, stroked alongside mine, coaxing it into action. Her hands drifted up to my shoulders, the short bite of her nails the sweetest pain.

But it wasn’t enough because those hands didn’t move, other than to knead at the muscles on either side of my neck. I didn’t band my arms around her and yank her lithe body against mine, didn’t flip us and stroke home, plunging into her heat and taking us both into oblivion. And it was too much. Because I’d had this sense of the world shifting since the night before in the garden, an abrupt jar of my place on this planet, the axis tilted to the side, my normal orbit adjusted without warning, and this kiss increased that feeling.

I felt both completely changed and also completely myself.

The juxtaposition was intense.

A soft moan slid up her throat, vibrated across my tongue, filled my mouth with the sweet taste of her pleasure, and then I wasn’t trying to quantify this moment. I was just in the moment.

I threaded my fingers into her hair, tilted her head, slanting our lips, deepening the contact, tasting every inch of her mouth as the golden locks tickled the back of my hand, made me wish I was feeling it drag across my chest, down my stomach, drift over my cock as she took me deep. My other palm slid down her back, not stopping until I was cupping the delicious, curved globes, her moan as I stroked and massaged them, making red edge into the corners of my eyes.

She bucked, thighs widening, pressing tighter against me.

My towel was long gone, but her sweats were in place, a frustrating barrier that I was desperate to get rid of.

I slipped my hand under the waistband on her back, felt the velvet roughness of the lace encircling her hips, the band dipping down between her cheeks. I followed those lines, tracing every inch of her ass before shifting my fingers around to the front of her, moving it down, sliding into damp heat.

She gasped, bucked again, and fuck, that felt good.

I slid a little deeper, circling the bundle of nerves, tracing light patterns over her labia, making her mouth break away from mine, her head fall back, her eyes slide closed. “Tal,” she whispered. “I—”

“Should I stop?” I murmured, kissing my way up her throat until I reached her ear, my tongue darting out to taste the sensitive spot just behind it.

Stillness.

And I felt an answering motionless enter my body, freeze my every cell and nerve in place.

Then she pulled back slightly, and I prepared myself for her to pull out of my embrace, to find her feet. Her hazel eyes connected with mine, held, and I found myself immobile for a completely different reason as the moment stretched and she was silent in my arms, the only noise the sound of our rapid breathing and the shower running in the background.

No words. No sense of what was going through that mind of hers.

Her lips parted, her tongue dipping out to taste the bottom one. My cock twitched, but I didn’t consciously move a muscle, not when it felt as though my new orbit hinged on what she decided in this moment.

Breath slipped free, coating my skin with humid warmth, mixing with the steam of the shower, heat seeping into every inch of me.

That heat turned into an inferno when she whispered, “No.”

A match in dry tinder. A forest bursting into flames from multiple strikes of lightning. Nothing but leaves and sticks and grass and trees, but then one instance and . . . flames along every inch of the foreseeable landscape.

“No,” she said again, fanning those flames, throwing gasoline on the fire. “I don’t want you to stop.”

And then she kissed me again.

Fuck, that was good.

Our lips and tongues dueled, but this time her hands didn’t stay on my shoulders. They slid up and down my torso, fingernails grazing my nipples, shooting pleasure down my spine, drifting lower . . . and encircling my cock.

Now my head dropped back, my hips lurched up, and my dick went even harder.

“I want you,” she whispered, tugging her mouth free, the words soft puffs against my throat. “I shouldn’t want you. It’s dangerous and stupid, but”—her tongue darted out—“I want you anyway. Will you . . .” Her eyes came up. “Will you have me?”

Pink dusting her cheekbones, desire in the depths of her gaze.

But also . . . courage. So much courage inside this woman, to ask for what she wanted, to not hide her need. I didn’t like the dangerous and stupid tag—though after last night I couldn’t deny the former. But the wanting me, the having her. Those I could work with.

When I didn’t immediately answer, the pink deepened, her stare drifted away.

“Yes, Hazel Eyes,” I murmured, using one hand to cup her jaw, to tilt her head back toward mine. “Yes, I’ll have you.” I ran my thumb back and forth over her skin, loving that she shivered at my touch. “As long as you’re sure that the pills haven’t gone to your head, that you won’t regret this later.”

Her eyes were lucid, but I had to be sure. I didn’t want her to look back and hate herself or me for doing this.

Shadows in her eyes. Her hand lifting to cover mine. “I have lots of regrets,” she whispered. “But I can promise you this won’t be one of them.” A beat as she swallowed, her chin lifting. “So, will you take me, Tal? Will you have me?”

Forever.

I’d have her forever, take her forever, keep her forever.

My lips found hers, tasting deeply as I rose to my feet, as I moved us into the bedroom and back across the space. I set her on the mattress, pausing only to tug off the overly large sweats, to ease the shirt over her head.

Black lace.

No bra.

And fuck but her breasts