Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4)(48)

“Are you telling me, and then waiting for a reply to find out if I’m going to panic? Or say no?”

“Everything isn’t a test, Myla. This is just you and me. It’s pleasure. It’s getting to know each other’s bodies and as for “no”. You can say “no” to anything with me, now and always.” I don’t wait this time. I turn her, pressing her hands to the hard surface, mine on top of hers, my body framing her smaller, softer one. “What do you feel when I do this?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“I didn’t say you were afraid. I asked, what do you feel?”

“Warm all over.”

My hand goes to her belly. “Do you know what I want? I want to hold you like this, and have total trust.”

“I do trust you.”

“No. No you don’t and you can’t because trust takes time, but I’m going to make sure that we have that time.” I sweep the silky strands of her dark brown hair off her shoulder, lightly nipping the delicate skin, then licking the offended area. “What are you thinking now?” I ask, my hands leaving hers and cupping her breasts.

“How good you feel. How different.”

Different from him. Fucking Alvarez is still here. I turn her back around to face me, hands returning to her waist. “Sweetheart. No man likes to be compared to another. I’m here. You’re here. Just us.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I do.”

“I’ll believe you when I stop tasting him on your lips,” I say, my fingers slicing into her hair, my tongue licking into her mouth, tasting her hunger, her reserve that I reject, my cheek sliding to hers. “He’s still here,” I murmur, “but I’m going to f*ck him away, and then I swear to you, I’m going to f*ck him up so badly, he’ll cease to exist.” My lips find hers, caressing lightly, lingering. “He doesn’t get to be here tonight.”

Her fingers sink into my shoulders, her body swaying into mine. “I want him gone,” she breaths out. “You have no idea how much I want him gone.”

“I do know,” I say, leaning back to let her see the truth in my eyes. “I do understand what it’s like to pretend to be someone else to survive, but you don’t have to do that with me.” My fingers curve around her neck, tugging her mouth back to mine. “I’m going to make you feel exposed and show you how damn sexy vulnerability can be when you’re with me, when you’re safe. When all that matters to the other person, to me, is your pleasure, not mine.” And with that promise, I kiss her, my tongue licking into her mouth, in a silky, hot demand, meant to be a prelude to all the places I intend to lick, kiss, and tease.





Chapter Thirteen





Myla





Vulnerable. Exposed. These are things Michael Alvarez tried to make me, over and over and over again, but all he achieved was embarrassment, anger, and when I’d found a way to no longer feel fear, hate. Kyle promises these things now, but from him they are different. From him they taste like passion and promise. They taste like seduction. He kisses me like he’s savoring me, with slow, sexy strokes of his tongue, a taut need in him that says I’m his next breath he cannot live without. I feel like he is mine. I feel like I need him, like he is what I’ve needed for a very long time.

My fingers flex where they have splayed over his chest, and I lean into the long lines of his hard body, losing myself in the moment, in this man who has taken me by storm, and seems to be everything I need and want. He moans, a low, sexy sound I feel in my sex, in my nipples, just as I feel his hands cup my backside, melding our bodies together, our hips, his thick erection now pressing against my belly. Heat radiates through my body, a deep ache forming in my sex.

He tears his mouth from mine, staring down at me. “God, woman. What are you doing to me?” I can’t think to even answer. He’s already on one knee in front of me, inching down the band to my leggings, exposing my belly where he plants a kiss. And that simple press of lips to skin, so nearly innocent, is somehow intensely erotic, and yes, tender. He is so very tender with me, and that stark contrast to what I know, and even who he is with those around him, is so incredibly sexy.

“Kyle,” I whisper, not even sure why.

He glances up at me, orange fire in his green eyes. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, Myla. You need to know that.”

“Why?” I ask, and it’s a simple question, a one word question, but it has so many layers, so many complicated layers.

“Why? Because I’m addicted to you, Myla. Crazy, insane, addicted to you, I want you to be just as addicted to me.”

He wants me to be addicted to him, which is all about my desire, my need, my choices and not his, though he’s made it clear that he wants me in a way that manages to be both alpha and sensitive, at the same time. He can’t know how much that combination works for me, matters to me, but I won’t tell him. I really can’t. Not when he’s inched my pants a tiny bit further down, just above the V of my body, and his lips and tongue are traveling that line – left, right, center – and all I can think of is, where will that delicious mouth of his go next? A shiver rolls through me, my sex achy, and oh so very wet.

“I want to be your addiction, Myla,” he repeats, inching to my side, his teeth scraping my hip. “I want you to think about what I’ll do to you next at times when I’m not doing it.” His tongue flickers against the tiny spot of his gentle bite, his hand flattening over my belly, to slide under my pants and push them further down, his palm resting over my sex without touching it. And the other hand now on my bare backside, almost as if he’s about to spank me. A thought that should terrify me, considering some of the torture I’ve been put through, but I’m aroused. So incredibly aroused.