If I Were You(Inside Out 01)(48)

A low moan slips from his mouth. “Enough,” he orders, reaching for me.
No, I scream in my head, determined to take him all the way, but it’s too late. He’s too strong for me to fight. I am already flush against his chest, his hands in my hair, his mouth over mine. He was lethal, a drug…in some part of my lusty fog-laden mind, I remember the words of that first journal entry I’d read. Chris is quickly becoming my addiction, a drug I will never get enough of.
I can feel his erection press against my backside and I reach behind me to stroke him. He caresses my breasts, teases my nipple. “Get the condom, baby.”
“We don’t need it,” I whisper, so ready for him I hurt with need. “I’m on the pill.”
He stops kissing me and goes utterly still. My palms flatten on his chest and I’m not sure whose heart is beating faster, his or mine. Dread forms inside me with his reaction and I instinctively know what he is thinking. I push back and stare at him.
Anger and hurt collide inside me. “You think I’m on the pill to sleep around. I don’t believe you. Well, for your information I haven’t slept with anyone in...a long time...and I won’t be tonight again either.” I try to get off of him and he holds me. ”Let me go, Chris.”
“Not a chance.” He slides a hand up my back and neck, forcing me into submission and this time I resent it. “I told you I wasn’t ready to let you run away and I meant it.”
“Let go,” I demand. I’m hot and it’s not all about anger and that makes me furious with myself now, too.
“I’m not that complicated, Sara. I wear a condom and I protect myself. I f*ck and I get f*cked, Sara. That is who I am and what I am. I told you that.”
His words are hard and they wash over me with icy clarity. I drop my gaze and I feel like I’m going to crack into pieces. He’s right. I’m being emotional and no condom is stupid. How did I let myself drift into this territory? This is an escape, it’s sex.
His fingers lace into my hair, palms framing my face, as he forces his gaze to mine. The stormy, hot turbulence in his eyes, a total contradiction to the ice of his words, steals my breath. “Damn it, woman,” he hisses. “What are you doing to me?” He presses his forehead to mine, and his voice rasps with eternal struggle. “I didn’t think about safe sex when you said you were on the pill. I wanted to know who the guy was who had you and lost you when I have no right to care. I don’t want to care. I don’t want to want to know.”
But he does care, that’s what he is telling me, and suddenly, I can breathe again. “He’s the past,” I answer, as he had told me about the tattoo artist.
“How past Sara? How long since you were last with a man.”
“Are you sure you really want to know?” My heart thunders in my chest. “Because if I tell you, I think you’re going to-”
“How long?”
My throat restricts. “Five years. I stayed on the pill because...I just did.”
He pulls back to study me. “No one for five years?”
I cut my gaze. “I don’t want to talk about this.” I repeat what I’ve already said. “That’s my past and you’re now.”
His hand slides to my face and he studies me, and seconds feel like hours. I fear he’s going to think I can’t handle this no strings relationship. “That’s right, baby,” he finally whispers. “I’m now.” He kisses me, his tongue sliding against mine, stroking me into a softer, needier place, where thinking thankfully isn’t an option.
His hands are low on my back and his touch on my body affect me in a way I have never experienced. Every inch of my skin, every nerve ending, is tingling and alive.
“I need to be inside you,” he growls near my ear, his breath warm on my neck, before his lips brush the sensitive area.
My body clenches with the words. As impossible as it seems considering how hot this man has made me several times over, I have never been as aroused as I am in this moment. “Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
He shifts my weight, and presses into me. I gasp at the sensation of him entering me, stretching me, pressing all the way to the deepest depths of me in ways beyond the physical. Chris affects me deeply, intensely, completely.
“Damn, you feel good, baby.” His voice is rough, intoxicatingly aroused. Again I think, because of me, this idea is immensely pleasing.
One of his hands glides lower on my back, a possessiveness to his touch that brands me, as he presses me down against him. I arch into the movement, the stroke of his cock inside me a sultry play on my nerve endings.
He nips my bottom lip and licks the same spot. “You taste like honey and sunshine,” he murmurs, and then surprises me in such an intense moment by smiling and adding, “And pizza.”
I laugh and lick his bottom lip. “You taste like-”
“You,” he finishes for me, and my stomach clenches in reaction as he softens his voice, “I taste like you, Sara.”
The air seems to thicken around us, and the connection I’ve felt with Chris from the moment we met shifts and evolves into a living, breathing thing. It’s controlling us now. It’s claiming us. We are no longer ourselves, no longer the damaged, thinking creatures who can hold back and control what we say and do. We are simply two people who have lost the world around us, and found this powerful, passionate moment.
Our mouths come together in unison, our tongues tangling in a wicked, emotionally charged kiss that is like nothing we’ve shared until now. I feel this kiss in every part of my body and beyond, and there is an unfamiliar emotion in my chest; on some level I know this is dangerous with this man. Falling for him is a mistake I don’t intend to make and I don’t want to make, but I can’t fight the feelings overwhelming me. I can’t escape the way he overwhelms me with sensations though I have no real perception of really trying.