Hopeless (Hopeless #1)(39)
I laugh. “Your logic terrifies me. I sort of don’t find you attractive anymore.”
He slides on top of me, holding up his weight on his hands. “You sort of don’t find me attractive? That can also mean you sort of do find me attractive.”
I shake my head. “I don’t find you attractive at all. You repulse me. In fact, you better not kiss me because I’m pretty sure I just threw up in my mouth.”
He laughs, then drops his weight onto one arm, still hovering over me. He lowers his mouth to the side of my head and presses his lips to my ear. “You’re a liar,” he whispers. “You’re a whole lot attracted to me and I’m about to prove it.”
I close my eyes and gasp the second his lips meet my neck. He kisses me lightly, right below the ear, and it feels like the whole room just turned into a tilt-a-whirl. He slowly moves his lips back to my ear and whispers, “Did you feel that?”
I shake my head no, but barely.
“You want me to do it again?”
I’m shaking my head no out of stubbornness, but I’m hoping he’s telepathic and can hear what I’m really screaming inside my head, because hell yes, I liked it. Hell yes, I want him to do it again.
He laughs when I shake my head no, so he brings his lips closer to my mouth. He kisses me on the cheek, then continues trailing soft pecks down to my ear, where he stops and whispers again. “How about that?”
Oh, God, I’ve never been so not bored in my life. He’s not even kissing me and it’s already the best kiss I’ve ever had. I shake my head again and keep my eyes closed, because I like not knowing what’s coming next. Like the hand that just planted itself on my outer thigh and is working its way up to my waist. He slides his hand under my t-shirt until his fingers barely graze the edge of my pants, and he leaves his hand there, slowly moving his thumb back and forth across my stomach. I’m so acutely aware of everything about him in this moment that I’m almost positive I could pick his thumbprint out of a lineup.
He runs his nose along my jawline and the fact that he’s breathing just as heavily as I am assures me there’s no way he can wait until after tonight to kiss me. At least that’s what I’m desperately hoping.
When he reaches my ear again, he doesn’t speak this time. Instead, he kisses it and there isn’t a nerve ending in my body that doesn’t feel it. From my head all the way down to my toes, my entire body is screaming for his mouth.
I place my hand on his neck and when I do, chills break out on his skin. Apparently, that one simple move momentarily melts his resolve and for a second, his tongue meets my neck. I moan and the sound completely sends him into a frenzy.
He moves his hand from my waist to the side of my head and he pulls my neck against his mouth, holding nothing back. I open my eyes, shocked at how quickly his demeanor changed. He kisses and licks and teases every inch of my neck, only gasping for air when it’s absolutely necessary. As soon as I see the stars above my head, there isn’t even enough time to count one of them before my eyes roll back in my head and I’m holding back sounds that I’m too embarrassed to utter.
He moves his lips further from my neck and closer to my chest. If we didn’t have such a limited supply of firsts, I’d tear my shirt off and make him keep going. Instead, he doesn’t even give me this option. He kisses his way back up my neck, up my chin, and trails soft kisses around my entire mouth, careful not to once touch my lips. My eyes are closed, but I can feel his breath against my mouth, and I know he’s struggling not to kiss me. I open my eyes and look at him and he’s staring at my lips again.
“They’re so perfect,” he says, breathlessly. “Like hearts. I could literally stare at your lips for days and never get bored.”
“No. Don’t do that. If all you do is stare, then I’ll be the bored one.”
He grimaces, and it’s obvious that he’s having a really, really hard time not kissing me. I don’t know what it is about him staring at my lips like he is, but it’s definitely the hottest thing about this whole situation right now. I do something I probably shouldn’t do. I lick them. Slowly.
He groans again and presses his forehead against mine. His arm gives way beneath him and he drops his weight on me, pressing himself against me. Everywhere. All of him. We moan simultaneously once our bodies find that perfect connection, and suddenly it’s game on. I’m tearing off his shirt and he’s on his knees, helping me pull it over his head. After it’s completely off, I wrap my legs around his waist and lock him against me, because there could be nothing more detrimental than if he were to pull away right now.
He brings his forehead back to mine and our bodies reunite and fuse together like the last two pieces of a puzzle. He’s slowly rocking against me and every time he does it, his lips come closer and closer, until they brush lightly against mine. He doesn’t close the gap between our mouths, even though I absolutely need him to. Our lips are simply resting together, not kissing. Every time he moves against me, he lets out a breath that seeps into my mouth and I try to take them all in, because it feels like I need them if I want to survive this moment.
We remain in this rhythm for several minutes, neither of us wanting to be the first to initiate the kiss. It’s obvious we both want to, but it’s also obvious that I may have just met my match when it comes to stubbornness.