Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(40)

“I love you too.”





Fourteen





Killian





Axelle loves me.

The words strike my chest and knock the air from my lungs. I drop my forehead to her neck and fight bursting into tears. She holds me to her, comforting me as if she’s aware of the power of her confession. I whisper words of gratitude against her skin, silent praises to God for deeming me worthy of this woman and her love.

She loves me.

My lips move from praises to worshipful kisses, slowly skating up the side of her throat to her jaw. The mild hint of soap mixing with the subtle sweet scent I’ve come to recognize as hers alone ignites my blood. I pull the smooth skin with my lips as she pants heated breaths against my ear. Closer to her mouth, I pull away to gaze down at her. Tears shine in her eyes and burn behind mine.

With our eyes on one another, I lower my mouth to hers. The first touch of her lips is an explosion that races down my spine. I hum in satisfaction as she opens to me, my tongue delving in to glide against hers—testing then tasting and savoring.

She does the same, kissing me back with an unhurried passion, as if she’s committing every new sensation to memory. She tastes like mild honey and smells like wildflowers, and my hunger to gorge myself on her pulses beneath my skin.

With my knee between her legs, I shift to her side, giving my hand full access to explore her luscious body. Her breasts strain against the baggy T-shirt as she arches off the bed, an open invitation I’m not stupid enough to decline.

My fingers quake as I slide my hand up her shirt to her belly. The first caress of her skin is a tease and too decadent to experience by touch alone. I want her on my tongue. It takes the temptation of her skin to pull me from her lips, and she whimpers when she loses my mouth.

“Shh…” I grin at her while shifting down her body, pressing kisses to her clavicle and breastbone. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

She moans when my lips make contact with her belly button and I flick my tongue against it. How many times I’ve fantasized about this when she’s been in a bikini, running my mouth against the gentle slope of her belly, and now here she is, offering herself to me. It’s too good to be real.

Her long, slender fingers pull up her shirt, exposing her bare breasts, and I swear if I hadn’t looked away I would’ve come right then.

“Touch me, Kill.”

I smile against her skin. Hearing her call me by my nickname reminds me she knows exactly who’s touching her, she’s not in some fantasy pretending I’m someone else, and she’s begging.

Me.

I cup her breast and circle her nipple with my thumb. It hardens and my dick responds in kind. I do the same to the other breast until a trail of goose bumps skitters across each one.

“Gorgeous, baby.” I pluck gently at her nipples, and her legs shift restlessly on the bed. “So f*cking beautiful.”

I dip down and pepper her breasts with kisses before sucking her nipple deep into my mouth. Her hips jack off the bed, and I hum against her in approval. I’m drunk on every whimper that falls from her lips as I continue to shower her with attention.

She writhes beneath me and rakes her fingernails across my shoulders and back. The sting of her impatience sends me to her lips, where I take her in a brutal kiss. Passion unleashes from within, and my restraint drowns in my desire for more.

She digs her heels into the bed and her knees fall open. I slide my hand between her legs, cupping her over my boxers. The thin cotton fabric is wet and my head nearly explodes.

I rub her into a frenzy, nice and slow then hard and fast, and when she’s on the brink of coming, I slip two fingers through the flap and—oh f*ck. She’s silken heat and hungry. I’m never gonna make it.

“Yes, don’t stop. I’m close.” She grips my head and pulls my lips to hers, thrusting her tongue into my mouth and shattering my restraint.

“You’re so f*cking hot, Ax. From the first day I met you, I’ve wanted to do this to you.” I share my darkest secrets against her lips between kisses. “I’ve imagined what it would be like to feel your mouth on mine: how many times we’ve been at the pool and I’ve wanted to pull your top aside and taste you.”

“Yes, don’t stop. Tell me more.” Her breath hitches.

“I’ve touched myself thinking about your lips.” I suck on her bottom lip, biting gently before soothing the ache with my tongue. “Fantasized about feeling them all over me.”

Her hips meet the demands of my thrust. She’s close. So damn close.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” I slide my fingers from her body. “Can’t wait another second.”

I rip the boxers to her ankles and toss them to the floor. Without a hint of finesse, I position myself between her legs and wrench her thighs apart. I try to be gentle, but I’m too far gone and I devour her.

Her head slams back against the pillow while her fists tighten into the comforter. I lick and suck from her tender flesh, so desperate to drink her in, to take whatever she gives. Every new sound is a symphony of lusty responses I commit to memory. My mouth commands every whimper, every groan. She cries out my name, and the guttural sound raises goose bumps on my skin. When she comes down, she doesn’t push me away as I continue to tenderly kiss between her legs.