Hopeless (Hopeless #1)(40)
He holds the side of my head in place and keeps his forehead pressed against mine, but pulls his lips back far enough so he can lick them. When he lets them fall back into place, the wetness of his lips sliding against mine drags me completely under, and I doubt I’ll ever be able to come up for air.
He shifts his weight, and I don’t know what happens when he does this, but somehow it causes my head to roll back and the words, “Oh, God,” to come out of my mouth. I didn’t mean to pull away from his mouth when I tilted my head back, because I really liked it being there, but I like where I’m going even more. I wrap my arms around his back and tuck my head against his neck for some semblance of stability, because it feels like the entire earth has been shifted off its axis and Holder is the core.
I realize what’s about to happen and I begin to internally panic. Other than his shirt, we’re completely clothed, not even kissing…yet the room is beginning to spin from the affect his rhythmic movements are having on my body. If he doesn’t stop what he’s doing, I’ll fall apart and melt right here beneath him, and that would quite possibly mark the most embarrassing moment of my life. But if I ask him to stop, then he’ll stop, and that would quite possibly mark the most disappointing moment of my life.
I try to calm my breaths and minimize the sounds escaping my lips, but I’ve lost any form of self-control. It’s obvious my body is enjoying this non-kissing friction a little too much and I can’t find it in me to stop. I’ll try the next best thing. I’ll ask him to stop.
“Holder,” I say breathlessly, not really wanting him to stop, but hoping he’ll get the hint and stop anyway. I need him to stop. Like two minutes ago.
He doesn’t. He continues kissing my neck and moving his body against mine in a way that boys have done to me before, but this time it’s different. It’s so incredibly different and wonderful and it absolutely petrifies me.
“Holder.” I attempt to say his name louder, but there isn’t enough effort left in my body.
He kisses the side of my head and slows down, but he doesn’t stop. “Sky, if you’re asking me to stop, I will. But I’m hoping you’re not, because I really don’t want to stop, so please.” He pulls back and looks down into my eyes, still barely moving his body against mine. His eyes are full of ache and worry and he’s breathless when he speaks. “We won’t go any further than this, I promise. But please don’t ask me to stop where we already are. I need to watch you and I need to hear you because the fact that I know you’re actually feeling this right now is so f**king amazing. You feel incredible and this feels incredible and please. Just…please.”
He lowers his mouth to mine and gives me the softest peck imaginable. It’s enough of a preview of what his real kiss will feel like and just the thought of it makes me shudder. He stops moving against me and pushes himself up on his hands, waiting for me to decide.
The moment he separates from me, my chest grows heavy with disappointment and I almost feel like crying. Not because he stopped or because I’m torn about what to do next…but because I never imagined that two people could connect on this sort of intimate level, and that it could feel so overwhelmingly right. Like the purpose of the entire human race centers around this moment; around the two of us. Everything that’s ever happened or will happen in this world is simply just a backdrop for what’s occurring between us right now, and I don’t want it to stop. I don’t. I’m shaking my head, looking into his pleading eyes, and all I can do is whisper, “Don’t. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
He slides his hand behind my neck and lowers his head, pressing his forehead to mine. “Thank you,” he breathes, gently easing himself onto me again, recreating the connection between us. He kisses the edges of my mouth several times, trailing close to my lips and down my chin and across my neck. The faster he breathes, the faster I breathe. The faster I breathe, the faster he plants kisses all over my neck. The faster he plants kisses all over my neck, the faster we move together—creating a tantalizing rhythm between us that, according to my pulse, isn’t going to last much longer.
I dig my heels into the bed and my nails into his back. He stops kissing my neck and looks down at me with heated eyes, watching me. He focuses on my mouth again, and as much as I want to watch him stare at me like he does, I can’t keep my eyes open. They close involuntarily as soon as the first wave of chills wash over my body like a warning shot of what’s about to come.
“Open your eyes,” he says firmly.
I would if I could, but I’m completely helpless.
“Please.”
That one word is all I need to hear and my eyes flick open beneath him. He’s staring down at me with such an intense need, it’s almost more intimate than if he were actually kissing me right now. As hard as it is to do in this moment, I keep my eyes locked on his as I drop my arms, clench the sheets with both fists and thank Karma for bringing this hopeless boy into my life. Because until this moment—until the first waves of pure and utter enlightenment wash over me—I had no idea that he was even missing.
I begin to shudder beneath him and he never once breaks our stare. I can no longer keep my eyes open no matter how hard I try, so I let them fall shut. I feel his lips slide delicately back to mine, but he still doesn’t kiss me. Our mouths are stubbornly resting together as he holds his rhythm, allowing the last of my moans and a rush of my breaths and maybe even part of my heart to slip out of me and into him. I slowly and blissfully slide back down to earth and he eventually holds still, allowing me to recover from an experience that he somehow made not at all embarrassing for me.