Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(101)

Keira’s mother hated Kona. Kiera could see it. It was in the bend of her mouth, the way the woman stepped back. She didn’t quite cower, didn’t show her fear, but Keira knew what that frown meant; she knew that the pinched nose and curling lip meant that Kona’s presence in her home was distinctly distasteful, offensive, as though he was deviling her order, the pristine and sterile faux happiness her mother tried to present to the world. Kona was behind closed doors and he’d seen what their lives was really like. That expression on her mother’s face showed anger, true, but real fear of what others would think, would say if Kona spilled their secrets.

But the woman didn’t respond, didn’t try to threaten either of them. The crash of glass and Steven’s drunken cursing sounded from below and she jumped, turned quickly to move down the stairs.

A quick shut and turn of the lock and Keira leaned against the door, dipping her head against Kona’s chest when he stood in front of her.

“How have you lived with that crazy bitch for so long?”

“You’d be surprised what you get used to.”

He tried to pull away; a soft kiss on the top of her head and Kona inched back, likely wanted to get Keira back in bed to rest. But she hung onto him, fingers curled into his shirt and she inhaled, rubbing her face against that hard, comforting chest. She wanted that distinct smell his skin always gave off to filter into her nose. He was warm, he was always warm, and it was that warmth and the heady smell of his body, of his cologne that Keira captured against her nose and held in her chest.

They had learned each other so well. It had only been months, but Keira knew only Kona could give her what she needed. It was his taste, his comfort that she needed right then; only Kona could drive out the sounds of her mother screaming at her husband. Only Kona could fill her up, make the world fall away with his mouth and touch and addictive body.

She only needed to give him a look. Something brief, something real and Kona’s defenses crumbled. He would never deny her. He would never turn his back on her when she ached for him. That night was no different. One brief smile and the pull of her fingers on his face, bringing him to her mouth, and Kona reacted, gave Keira his mouth, his tongue.

“Can’t get enough?” he said, breaking away from her teeth on his bottom lip.

“Of you? Never.”

Kona returned his attention to her mouth, tongue slipping in like it was welcomed. There was no preamble to those touches, no awkward movement that told Keira he held any hesitance. That died the moment she touched him. They moved together like choreography, each touch, each graze of fingers, giving off the grace of instinct, of desperate need that was natural, innate.

Kona’s hips against hers, his large, strong fingers digging into her backside and Keira smiled, feeling the outline of his erection, thinking she could almost taste how hungry he was for her. “You’re getting sick again, Wildcat. Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

Keira was lightheaded and she thought he was right. She thought maybe that flu was reemerging. But with Kona’s body so close to her, with his scent and touch so deeply sown in her senses, she couldn’t let him walk away. She couldn’t ignore what her body wanted from him. “We’ll be quick and then I promise I’ll go right back to bed.” She tugged him down again, rubbing against him, loving the way his eyes rolled up, how that low groan in his throat made her clit tingle. “Stop talking.”

He picked her up then, pulling her legs around his waist and Keira smiled, that same pleased, eager smile she reserved only for Kona when he let her have her way. His chest rumbled with laughter and those large, dark eyes looked up to the ceiling, a long exhale working out of his mouth. “Spoiled brat.”

And then Kona wiped the smile from Keira’s face. Fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans, dipping under her thong so he could touch, capture the smile with his thumb on her clit and his hot, moist mouth on her neck. “Baby, you’re so wet for me.”

They ignored the roar from below, the loud, angry screech of her mother’s high voice and the crash of a glass, perhaps a bottle, slamming against the wall. “I hear where you get your lungs from.” Keira felt too much sensation to comment on his small dig. All that white noise of the room, of the row below them disappeared, shifted from Keira’s mind as Kona’s thumb worked fast, as he slipped two fingers inside her.

“I can’t. Do it, Kona. Please. I need you inside me.”

“Let me get a condom.”

Keira could hear the wind down, the slow finish of her mother and stepfather’s bellowing fight and she knew there wasn’t time. She wanted to feel Kona. She wanted to feel all of him and that touch, that release could not be delayed. “No time, she’ll be back up here in a minute.” She leaned up, twisted her hips so that his fingers went deeper into her and Kona hissed, eyes closing as she squeezed her muscles against his fingers. “Just… just pull out.”

He didn’t need convincing. Kona reached down, picked up a towel from the floor, set it on the table next to the door and pulled Keira’s jeans and thong off her. Then, he slipped inside her. Each thrust he made into her, every snap of him driving into her welcoming body, had Keira’s shoulders bumping against the door and she loved the sound. It was like a melody, their quick movements, the slap of their flesh meeting and Keira wanted more, always more.

“You always feel so good, baby.” His voice was calm, but on the end of his words Kona released a long breath. “So tight and warm. I could eat you alive.”