Free Web NovelChapter 154: Chapter 154 - What Frightens Her (R)
His arm slides under her thighs and he lifts her.
The movement is smooth and controlled. She gasps against his mouth as her legs wrap around his hips. Her back meets the wall. He steadies her immediately, one hand firm at her waist, the other supporting her weight.
He presses in close.
She feels the hard line of him against her. He does not move it. He just holds her there, bodies aligned, letting her feel it.
Her thighs tighten.
The kiss slows but deepens. His mouth opens hers with patience. His tongue moves with purpose, unhurried. One slow roll of his hips presses heat through her and she inhales sharply.
Her fingers slide into his hair and tug.
A low sound leaves his throat.
He shifts to her jaw, kissing along the line of it, then down her neck, careful around the bandage. Each press of his mouth makes her arch into him. Her chest rises against his. Her grip tightens in his hair.
Something shifts inside her.
It is more than heat. More than the rush of being held like this. It settles deeper, heavier. She feels it in the way her body leans toward him instead of away. In the way she does not want him to stop.
He lifts his head and looks at her.
The way he watches her makes her stomach tighten. Focused. Certain.
He kisses her again, deeper now. His hand tightens at her waist as if keeping her in place.
Her heart pounds hard against her ribs. Too hard.
This is getting too close to something she is not ready to name.
She pulls at his hair again, sharper, almost like she is trying to steady herself.
He presses her more firmly to the wall and kisses her deeper in response.
Her chest tightens.
She should slow this down.
Instead, she pulls him closer.
Malcolm keeps her against the wall, hips rolling slow and controlled, the pressure deliberate. He does not rush it.
He lets the friction build, the thick line of him rubbing against her through their clothes until her breath breaks unevenly against his mouth.
Iyisha’s fingers tighten in his hair every time he presses just right. Heat gathers low and heavy inside her. He feels solid between her legs, grounded, steady, in control of the pace.
Then he pulls back just enough to slide one arm under her ass and the other around her shoulders. He lifts her again without breaking contact.
She exhales sharply as the room shifts around them, her legs locked around his waist while he carries her.
The mattress dips when he lowers her onto it. He comes down over her immediately, mouth still on hers, weight braced on his forearms.
Everything moves slower now.
Not usually how they does this but the pace make her more sensitive.
Her legs stay wrapped around him as he settles between them, hips aligned with hers. Their mouths part and meet again, deeper.
Tongues slide, wet and unhurried. His hand moves to the hem of her shirt and pushes it upward, inch by inch, fingers dragging across her stomach, higher, until he cups her breast through the thin fabric.
His thumb circles her nipple.
Once.
Again.
It hardens under his touch and she arches into his hand, hips lifting to meet him.
He shifts lower, mouth leaving hers to trail down her throat, open and warm, sucking at the pulse beneath her skin. His hand moves behind her back and unhooks her bra in one practiced motion. The fabric loosens and he pushes it aside.
His mouth closes over her breast immediately.
Hot.
Wet.
His tongue circles before he draws her into his mouth and sucks harder this time, pulling a sharp gasp from her. Her fingers knot in his hair, holding him there.
She tugs at his shirt and he rises just enough for her to pull it off. Skin meets skin fully now. His chest presses against her breasts, the brush rough against her sensitive skin.
She runs her hands down his back, nails grazing, pulling him closer.
He moves lower again, kissing across her collarbone, down between her breasts, along the center of her stomach. When he reaches her waistband he stops and looks up at her.
She nods.
He hooks his fingers into her pants and drags them down with her underwear in one steady pull. Cool air hits her skin briefly before his shoulders push her thighs wider.
He settles between them, breath warm against her center.
She swallowed as he looked deeply in her eyes with a little smirk on the corner of his lips.
He kisses her inner thigh first. Then the other. Slow. Controlled. With his eyes still on her.
She shivered in anticipation.
He licked the sensitive skin there making her moan. He looked at her wetness licking his lip. She moaned as he licked inward until his tongue slides along her, tasting how wet she already is.
Her hips jerk.
"Malcolm," she breathes.
He flattens his tongue and licks up the length of her again, slower this time, ending with a firm suck that makes her back lift from the mattress. He does it again. Then he slides one finger inside her.
Then two.
He curls them carefully while his mouth keeps its rhythm. The wet sounds fill the quiet room along with her broken moans. Her thighs tremble around his head. Her fingers grip tight in his hair.
He does not speed up.
He keeps the same steady pace until her body tightens and releases around him in rolling waves that leave her gasping his name.
When she eases down, he moves back up her body, kissing her hip, her ribs, the underside of her breast, until he is over her again.
She reaches between them and wraps her hand around him.
Thick. Hot. Slick at the tip.
She guides him to her entrance, rubbing him along her folds until both of them shudder.
He braces one hand beside her head, the other cupping her cheek. Their eyes hold as he presses forward slowly, stretching her open inch by inch.
Her lips part.
His jaw tightens.
When he is fully inside her he stills, forehead resting against hers, letting her adjust to the depth.
Then he moves.
Long, deep strokes. Pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Each thrust steady. Controlled. Intimate.
She wraps her legs tighter around his waist, heels digging into his back, drawing him deeper.
Their mouths meet again, messy now, breaths uneven. His hand slips between them, thumb circling her clit in time with his thrusts.
The pressure builds quickly. Tight. Hot. She breaks around him, inner walls pulsing, drawing him in as she cries out against his mouth.
He groans low and thrusts deeper, harder now but still controlled, before burying himself fully and coming with her name on a rough exhale.
He stays inside her.
Softening slowly.
He kisses her temple. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth.
She should feel sleepy.
Instead she lies there awake, arms wrapped around him, staring at the ceiling while his weight rests over her.
Something has shifted.
This is no longer just need or relief. It sits deeper. Steadier.
The realization makes her chest tighten.
If she lets this stay, if she lets it grow, losing him will destroy her.
Her arms tighten around him anyway.
And that frightens her.
