Mine Would Be You (62)

Confusion fills her gaze. “About?”

“Everything. This, I suppose.”

She nods, leaning further into the pillows, but doesn’t pull her hand away. “I feel better. I just, I get anxious sometimes and get into my own head. I’m scared of wanting this, of getting hurt, but—”

My heart beats deeply in my chest, in a way only Nina can make it. “But what?”

“I want you more.”

There’s no self-control left in my body when those words leave her lips. With her hand in mine, I tug, pulling her closer until she’s draped over my chest, and I let her sink onto me, surprise and heat flashing in her eyes. I reach up, still slightly reclined against the headboard, and bring her lips to mine. Her skin is soft against my palms, and her lips feel like they were made for me. My other hand goes to her bare legs, feeling the smooth skin underneath my fingertips.

I don’t take the kiss any further. Just nip and tug at her lips, gently, roaming my hand up to tickle her side with my fingers until she’s breathless and laughing as I show her how much I want her. How much I want everything she’s willing to give.

I pull back and trail my fingers up and down her spine and twirl the ends of her hair, but her eyes keep flickering to my lips, and I harden against her. I adjust us, not wanting her to think I invited her over for that or expect it of her. She moves onto her back, and I lean up on my elbow, one hand tracing her stomach over the material of my shirt.

She turns slightly, half on her side, and hits me with a look I don’t think I’ll ever erase from my memory. “Can you keep kissing me please?” She says it shyly, and my head goes a bit hazy.

My hand stops, surprise filling my veins until I grin. “I thought you’d never ask.” She laughs softly at my words, and I lean down, connecting us again.

Electricity flows through us, my skin to hers, my lips to hers. Every kiss before this means absolutely nothing to me as she erases every kiss I’ve ever had. She rolls over, into me, and her hand comes up around the back of my neck, her fingers fanning out on my skin. I groan at the sensation of her hands on me, heat flooding my lower body.

Her skin is hot, burning hot, under my palms everywhere I go. The curve of her hip, the backside of her thigh, warm and supple under my palm, and her legs, soft and inviting.

I pull back for a second. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right? I’m in no rush,” I mumble against her lips. And I mean it. I’d wait forever to touch her if I had to.

She smiles against me. “I’m not opposed to a make out.” She leans in, then stops. “Unless you don’t want to?”

The chuckle reverberates through my body. Instead of answering, I just pull her closer. I kiss her slower, deeper, learning every movement of her lips. As much as I want to sleep with her, tonight or any, to erase everyone before me, I know I’m not going to. When I do, I want her to know fully that she’s sure, that she’s ready. That the risk of opening herself up is worth it.

But I’ll do whatever she wants until that moment.

My hand trails lower, brushing the end of her T-shirt and the skin of her lower stomach. She shivers, and I grin, loving how affected she is. Loving that she’s letting me in, little by little. I’m painfully hard, stretching against my sweatpants, but tonight I don’t care about anything but her.

I brush against her stomach, her soft skin, moving my hand lower and lower, roaming over her hip and her butt, squeezing it as she presses closer to me. Neither of us wants to come up for air. She pushes her leg between mine, and my skin burns everywhere she touches.

Lightly, my fingers brush over the band of her underwear, and she sighs and pulls back. “What?” I ask, amused. I want to hear her say it, even as she pushes closer.

I want her to claim what she wants. Openly and proudly.

“Jackson.”

“That is my name, feel free to wear it out.” I smile, brushing my fingers over her cheek, tracing the dotted freckles.

Nina pauses, pulling at her bottom lip. Both her hands are on my bare chest, and it’s impossible to focus on anything that isn’t her.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to you touching me either.” Her cheeks pink up, but she keeps her eyes on mine. A groan clogs my throat at the look she gives me with those brown eyes, and I swallow. Her voice is quiet but firm. “Touch me.”

Her fingers brush my skin, and the grin spreads without my permission, and I nod, leaning closer. “Anything for you.”

The pink of her cheeks deepens at that, and at the same time, my lips touch hers and I slip my hand down, touching her, just barely, where she wants. She exhales deeply, all the tension escaping her body as I press my fingers against her. I document every reaction. She’s warm, and she lingers on my skin, even through her underwear, and I can’t take it anymore. I have to feel her skin on my fingertips.

My eyes were closed when we were kissing, but now, as my hand slides under and she’s warm on my fingertips, I blink them open. I want to see her. I want to see everything.

She moans as our skin comes in contact, the center of her pulsing against my fingers as I circle, teasing her, pushing her higher and higher. Nina circles her hips, her leg squarely between mine as she attempts to fuse us together. Her kisses pause when I finally find her clit and move slowly until I find a rhythm she likes, one she responds to, and I know I have when she stops kissing me altogether, but her hands grip tighter. One is curled under me, spread along my back and pulling me in while the other grips my sweatpants, her knuckles curled tight. Her little puffs of air hit my lips as I continue. I trail my lips down away from hers, over her cheeks and onto her neck. Her grip tightens, and I nip and bite and kiss my way around her neck until the smallest moan passes her lips. The sound goes straight to my groin, and I groan softly against her neck, kissing my way back up.