Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(31)
Author: Leisa Rayven

He grazes his hands over my ribs, and his voice is soft and breathless when he says, “Don’t you see how fucked up this is? How bad I’d be for you?”

“I know,” I say, unable to stop looking at his mouth, “but do you want it? Do you want … me?”

Just say it. Please.

He swallows again, and whispers, “Fuck, yes.”

I stand on my toes and tug his head down. When his mouth is close enough, I gently press my lips against his.

Oh. God.

We both inhale loudly, our bodies tensing as our connection explodes. My insides coil and tie themselves in knots, and he makes a grunting sound that’s a perfect blend of both pleasure and pain.

I release his lips and pull back. His mouth is open and soft, and I kiss him again, a little harder. I feel him exhale against my face, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I suck gently on his lips. Heat oozes under my skin. Fires in my belly. He makes another tortured noise, then he’s sucking on my lips, too. Every inch of me blazes. Heat from his mouth pulls into my lungs, and I curse myself for not having been kissing this man from the first day I met him, because what he’s doing to me is beyond incredible.

“I can’t believe no one’s ever done this to you before,” he says between increasingly desperate kisses. Then he pushes his tongue into my mouth, and all hell breaks loose. I’m lost in the sensual slide of him. Dizzying pheromones make me ravenous. There’s nothing in the room but him. No feeling in my body but what he’s giving me. No sensation in the world except his skin beneath my hands.

In that moment, I’m that girl. The one who’s confident, and beautiful, and desirable. I’m all of those things because of him. Because of what he’s bringing out in me.

I pull back to look at him, panting and overwhelmed. His eyes are wild, chest heaving. He looks how I feel. Raw and insatiable.

“Oh, God,” I say, because now I’m always going to want him like this. There’s no going back. “This is bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad.”

“I warned you,” he says, breathing heavily and cupping my face. “Why the hell didn’t you listen?”

Then he’s kissing me again, and everything I thought I knew about kissing is obliterated by his lips. His tongue. His small groaning noises. His hands and arms are everywhere and nowhere. I rake my fingers across his scalp while moaning into his mouth, trying to get enough of him and failing miserably.

“Oh, God.” I gasp as he moves to my neck, his mouth open and sucking. Driving me insane.

He walks me backward until my ass hits the bench in front of the mirrors. He hoists me onto it and pushes his hips between my legs. My skirt rides up as his swollen crotch presses against me.

We kiss, and grind, and tangle together, desperate for more. There’s too much fabric and not enough air. His hard is pressing against my soft, and I never knew anything in the world could feel so damn good.

“Jesus.” He groans, one hand grasping my hair as he uses the other one to find my breast. “This is just … Goddammit, Taylor. I’m so fucking stupid, because I knew you’d ruin me, and I let it happen anyway. I’m so screwed.”

“We both are.” I grab his head and make him kiss me more, because I’m addicted to the taste of his lips and tongue, but my hands need more, so they push under his T-shirt and find his stomach, flat and warm, trembling under my touch.

He grunts into my mouth and kisses me deeper. Then his hands are under my shirt and on top of my bra, caressing and fondling. Making the ache inside me so hungry, it’s painful.

He presses against me harder, but it’s not enough. I’m winding tighter and tighter, and nothing he’s doing is enough. I need more. All of him.

“Please.” I don’t even know what I’m asking for. For him to have sex with me? Here? Is that what I want?

“We shouldn’t.” He pants as he leaves my lips and kisses down past my ear, his breath hot and shallow on my skin. “This is fucking insane. Tell me to stop.”

“I can’t.”

He sucks hard where my shoulder and neck meet. I know he’s leaving a mark, but the pain doesn’t matter as much as him claiming me in that way.

He lifts me, then turns to press me against the wall, and when he grinds between my legs, I cry out with pleasure.

God, he’s so hard. I want him inside me, quieting the ache. Feeding the hunger.

“Jesus.” He rocks his hips faster as he cups my ass. “Cassie, if you don’t tell me to stop right now, I swear to God, I’m going to fuck you against this wall. You feel so good. I knew it. I knew you would.”

I writhe against him. I couldn’t tell him to stop right now if I had a gun pointed at my head. He rocks against me, and all I can do is hold on and pray for him to keep moving. Everything inside me is drawing up, contracting, tightening with unbelievable pleasure. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and I never want it to end. I feel like I’m climbing to the top of a mountain. If he just keeps moving, I’m going to launch into space.

“Cassie, I can’t … I shouldn’t.” He pants in rhythm with his hips. He has to keep going. He has to.

I bury my head in his neck and suck on the sweet skin there, marking him the way he marked me, the tang of his cologne tingling on my tongue as we both groan and curse. I hold my breath, waiting to fly.

“Ethan…”

“Jesus. Cassie…”

“Mr. Holt? Miss Taylor?”

We freeze as we hear Erika’s voice. He stops moving. Stops breathing. The tension inside me unwinds and dissolves.

No, no, no, no, no!

I hear footsteps, then her voice. “There you are. I was wondering if I’d lost my lead actors, but it seems you’re actually doing some character work. How dedicated of you.”

She’s right behind us.

Inside the room.

I detach myself from Holt’s neck, and he looks at me, panic filling his eyes. We’re both panting. Our lips are swollen and red.

Erika clears her throat as I unwrap my legs from Holt’s waist, so he can lower me to the floor.

I push down my T-shirt and skirt, and I see Holt run his hand through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets and exhaling.

I glance over at Erika. She’s assessing us calmly.

“So, it looks like you two have had an interesting … discussion. I take it you’ve worked through your issues about kissing Miss Taylor, Mr. Holt?”