Crash into You (Pushing the Limits, #3)(72)

Her nose slides against mine as she slowly nods. “I don’t want anyone else.”

God help us both for her allowing the devil permission.





Chapter 42

Rachel

THE KISS COMES HOTTER AND faster than before. Our lips move quickly, a hunger grows between us that can’t seem to be quenched. There’s a rhythm, a dance, and somehow, I know the steps. An instinct tells me to follow his lead, to explore even further, to touch.

My hands drift down his back and when I feel scorching skin near the hem of his shirt, I gasp for air. Isaiah moans, and his lips leave mine to travel along my throat. My heart picks up speed as my entire body becomes one live electrical current.

His tongue swirls against the sensitive skin right where my jaw meets my neck. I shiver and press my body closer to his. When he meets my lips again, Isaiah loops his arm around my waist and pulls me farther onto the bed. On our sides, his body heat penetrates past my clothes, past my skin, creating an inferno in my blood.

A sudden coldness causes my eyes to flash open. Kneeling beside me, Isaiah’s hands go behind his head and he yanks off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. A flutter of excitement and nerves trembles in my stomach. I swallow and stare at the golden tiger rippling with the muscle in his arm. Biting my lip, I dig deep for courage. My hand reaches out. Stops. And I curl my fingers in.

“It’s okay, Rachel. Go ahead.” He angles so that the tiger is closer to me.

I outline the tattoo, enjoying its beauty. “I love this one.”

In the beams of street light scattered into the dark bedroom by the slatted blinds, I watch as Isaiah’s eyes melt into silver. “It’s my favorite,” he says. “One day I’ll get a tattoo for you.”

Warmth explodes in my chest, in awe that he would mark himself for me. “You don’t have to.”

“I will.” His fingers trace my cheek and chills of pleasure run down my spine. “It’s what I do. Each tattoo represents the only happy memories I’ve had. And you, Rachel, you’re the happiest.”

My lips move up, and his fingers brush them in response.

“I dream of your smile.” He follows the curve as if he’s an artist. “I’ve thought about you every night since the first night we met.”

There’s a power I only feel when I’m with Isaiah. A boldness I’ve never possessed in my life. Never in a million years would I have imagined I’d be the girl who’d say she was falling fast for a boy before he did. Never in a million years did I think I’d be lying in bed with a totally ripped guy that has his shirt off. But Isaiah has this effect on me. He makes me feel stronger than I really am.

There’s a pulse in my body, vibrating every pressure point. “I like kissing you.”

His hand lowers to my waist. “I could kiss you forever.”

I lazily glance at him from under my eyelashes. “Just kissing.” Because I think I’ll combust if we do more.

The right side of his mouth quirks. “Just kissing. And some touching.” To prove his point Isaiah’s hands caress my back, weave into my hair and slide against the dip of my waist.

Yes, definitely some touching. I inhale deeply, reminding myself that breathing is still a requirement. “I agree. Some touching. No new clothes off.”

Because I’d probably pass out at the thought of his jeans off. They already hang low on his hips. Too low. Very low. Low enough that I start to imagine what more there is to him.

Isaiah wraps his hand around the back of my neck and performs this deep massage that makes my eyes roll into my head in ecstasy. “I’ll put my shirt back on if you want.”

“No,” I breathe out. “I’m fine with it off.” More than fine.

I lick my lips as his teeth nibble on my earlobe. Between my muscles melting under his touch, my blood tingling with the teasing of my ear and the way my foot rubs against his calf, my thoughts become hazy.

My shirt rides up and Isaiah rubs his thumb in small circles on the bare skin of my stomach. The sensation causes me to arch my back and Isaiah groans as I kiss his neck. I like these feelings. Actually, I more than like them. They’re addicting, and I love how every little thing I do causes Isaiah to kiss and touch me more.

He rolls and I move with him. Our tangled legs become unraveled as my thighs fall open, accepting his weight. Isaiah’s body over mine is heavier than I would have imagined, but it’s a weight I craved without knowing it.

Isaiah kisses up my neck and when his lips meet mine again, he rocks his hips. Suddenly very aware parts of him are touching very aware parts of me, and my head falls to the side as a new sensation spikes through my body. One I’ve never felt before. One I want to feel again. One that...

My hands slip to Isaiah’s chest and I push. “Isaiah.”

Isaiah rolls us again, except this time his back is against the mattress and he slides me next to his side. His chest moves up and down at a rapid pace, and that’s when I notice that my breaths match his.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, unable to think of anything coherent to explain why I did what I did. It was just new and fast and glorious and...

Isaiah places his fingers under my chin and has me look into his eyes. “It’s okay to stop.”

“I know,” I whisper, but to be honest, I don’t know if it is. I’m seventeen. Everyone else I know has done more...some way more...some into territories beyond way and into lands I don’t think I’ll ever visit.