Page 85 of The Strength Of A Woman

She presses the length of her body against mine, and I feel every bit of her against me.

Before long, it’s evident I’ve grown hard, and this time, I’m not pulling back.

I’m not hiding it.

I haven’t enjoyed my reaction to a woman like that in a very long time, maybe never.

She turns around like a swirl of Bougainvillea petals blown by the wind, and wraps her arms around my neck, as our eyes connect.

I know what she wants.

I feel it in my blood.

Her face is tilted up, her lips parted.

We’re almost there, kissing.

But if we start kissing here, I might be ripping her clothes off just to have her naked in my arms.

Instead, I tease myself and lower my mouth to hers, breathing into her.

“Let’s go home. We’ll continue over there,” I say, talking against her lips.

She takes a long breath as if her heart is about to explode before she answers.

“All right.”

And then she starts moving her fingers through my hair and down my neck, and I become iron hard, the tension impossible to bear.

And although I know I can’t do much here, I go for the impossible.For the last thing I should do.

I press my lips against hers and feel her shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Shudder after shudder moves through her as she absorbs the power of my touch, too afraid to do anything to me.

Just breathing through me as if it’s the only way she knows how to breathe.

Then I put a little tension into my kiss, so she knows I mean it, and it allows her to come back to me, to react.

And when she does that, I realize how hard it’s been to suppress my need to have her. And how quickly I could take her, which is the last thing I should do.

As much as I’d love to do that, Leilani has never traveled this road before.

She’s had men come after her, treat her badly, but she’s never had something like this that comes with a myriad of implications, and many ways to screw her life and mess with her brain.

So, we need to stop.

But then I move my lips to hers, and our kiss tastes like a reward, despite being so tormenting.

For me, it is.

I’d like nothing more than to savage her, make her sweat, so I can lick that salty dampness from her skin as I cover her in kisses.

Make her cry my name out, beg me to enter her, feel her soft insides around me, and the pulsing heat between her legs.

Have her nails leave bloody trails on my back.The blood my enemies are so much after.

My hand moves up her back before my fingers thread through her hair.