BENEATH HIS MOANS 5

The scent of night jasmine clung to the air, thick and sweet, wrapping around us like a silent witness. We were still in the garden, the stars glinting above like curious eyes. His lips were warm on mine, commanding but unhurried, like he wanted me to feel every second of it. My first kiss. I had never imagined it would taste like this. Ripe, a little dangerous, and entirely him.

His hand brushed against the side of my face, tilting me gently so he could deepen the kiss. I should have pulled away. I should have stopped it before it started. But instead, I tilted my head, giving him more access, and let his mouth show me things my fingers never could.

A sound escaped me, low and surprised, when his tongue teased the seam of my lips. My body betrayed me, leaning closer, aching to know what more felt like. The heat curled low in my belly and my chest pressed against his like it belonged there.

I was falling. And I liked it.

The moment tasted like sin and something sweeter than anything Mama ever warned me about.

Then it hit me.

This wasn't like the other times. Not like listening in the dark. Not like rubbing my clit in silence and pretending it was still prayer. This was real. He was real. His hands were warm. His kiss was deep. This was sex about to happen.

I pulled back so suddenly he blinked at the loss of contact. My lips tingled. My body was still leaning toward him even as I stepped back.

"No," I whispered. "This is too far. I should go."

He said nothing, just stared at me with that unreadable expression that made my heart beat harder. My fingers shook as I reached for the gate, and I felt his eyes on me the whole walk back to my apartment.

My lips still burned. Not from shame.

From wanting him to kiss me again.

***

The next day dragged like a slow confession. I spent most of it in silence, unable to look at myself too long in the mirror. My lips were still swollen from his kiss. My body felt like it had been lit from the inside out, then left to smolder. I tried to pray. My knees hit the floor, but my mind would not follow. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Felt him. Remembered the way he made me feel like I was the only woman who had ever mattered.

So I kept busy. I swept the small patio behind my flat, trimmed the little rosemary plant Mama insisted I travel with, and scrubbed my kitchen till it gleamed. But nothing quieted the memory of his lips or the ache between my thighs.

Night fell like velvet. The breeze was soft, the stars brighter than yesterday. The world outside was calm. But inside me, everything burned.

I sat on my bed, book unopened in my lap, pretending to read. My eyes flicked to the ceiling once. Then again. Silence. Maybe he had company. Maybe he was out. Maybe last night meant nothing to him and I was just another challenge won.

Then it began.

A deep, low groan rumbled from his chest.

His voice.

No moans this time. No woman's voice. Just his.

"Spread your legs for me."

I froze, heart slamming against my ribs.

"Touch your clit, slow and soft."

My breath caught. He sounded so close. So sure. I clutched the book tighter, pulse drumming in my ears.

"Look at me while you do it. Let me see your pretty little face while you play with that soaked pussy."

My hand trembled. He was imagining someone. Maybe someone in front of him. Maybe not. Maybe… me.

"God," he moaned, deep and husky. "I'd eat that pussy till you're crying for mercy."

My legs clenched. My body remembered last night's kiss and burned with the need to feel again. The heat was unbearable. I bit my bottom lip, trying to fight it. Then slowly, ashamed and aching, I slipped my hand beneath my nightgown.

"Rub it like that. Yeah, right there."

My fingers obeyed. My breath grew ragged. My body hummed under my own touch.

"I'd suck those pretty tits till you beg me to stop. But I wouldn't. Not till you scream."

My moan escaped before I could stop it. My back arched. My eyes rolled. The tip of my finger moved in sweet slow circles.

"I want to fuck you so deep your knees give out."

Oh God. My body was so close. My other hand grabbed the sheets. My legs opened wider.

And then, just as my legs trembled and the heat coiled so tight I could not hold back anymore, I heard it.

His voice. Guttural. Spent.

"Alannah…"

He moaned my name as he came.

I gasped. My eyes shot open. My orgasm crashed over me like a violent storm. My body shook. My hand stilled but the waves kept rolling through me.

He came to the thought of me.

And I came because of it.

I came so hard I saw stars brighter than the ones outside. My thighs quivered. My toes curled. My soul felt like it left my body.

Silence followed. It was heavy and electric.

He moaned my name.

I could not sleep that night.

Not because I was scared.

Because I wanted him to do it again. Before I could decide against it, I stood up and pulled a robe over my nightgown and rushed upstairs.

I raised my hands to knock but the door opened and there he was.

"Took you long enough."