"Never strangers. For now, just Khalid. For now I want you to trust me. Trust me with your pleasure, baby."
His finger slid inside her, thick and rasping as her legs parted and a moan left her lips.
"I want to watch you as I did the night in your bed. Watch you taking him, staring back at me, your eyes darkening in arousal and lust as you held on to me. I want to watch you give yourself to it, ache for it."
He nipped at her ear and she nearly came on his fingers. Her h*ps were moving totally against her will, grinding her cl*t into his palm as she fought to draw in another shaky breath.
"What if I were to love you?" she asked huskily. "How does this fit into love, Chase?"
"Do you remember when you told me what love was?" he asked her then.
And she did. Being free even as you're being held? Knowing you can reach for the stars, and someone's there to share it with you? Or to give you a boost if you need it? Someone to laugh with, love with, cry and argue with? Someone you know will be there when you're moody, when you're dark, or when you just need a hug. Isn't that love? And she remembered when she whispered those words, how everything inside her had reached for him.
She felt her panties slide from her h*ps as he used his free hand to push them down. His fingers were still buried in her sex, stroking, massaging her.
"Would you trust me, Kia?" he whispered. "To know your pleasure? To know your limits?"
She whimpered as he turned her to him and lifted her until she was sitting on the sink cabinet and he was pushing between her thighs.
He brought the finger that had been buried inside her to his lips and took it into his mouth. His gaze flared at the taste of her and she felt more of her juices spilling along the head of his cock.
How the hell had he managed to get his pants open so quickly?
"Lean back, baby. Watch me take you. Fill you. Just watch for a second."
She watched, watched the thick, ruddy head part her intimate lips and press forward. Her juices coated the thick flesh as he pulled back, then eased inside her.
She watched the silken, intimately bare flesh flush deeper, becoming a rosy pink as the darker knot of her cl*t pulsed.
"Do you know what I see?" he whispered as her head lifted.
Kia shook her head.
"I see sweet ni**les that need to be sucked, lips that need to be kissed. And you ache, don't you, sweetheart?" His fingers slid from her thigh, below where he was taking her, to where a sweet, dark ache filled her. "Right here." The tip of his finger pressed into the hidden entrance. "You like that. You like being taken there as I take your sweet pu**y."
Her head dropped back against the mirror as her lungs tightened, constricted with excitement.
Kia stared at Chase as he filled her, inch by slow inch, pressing into her, taking her, as she remembered the pleasure pain of being taken both ways at once, filled and driven insane with the wicked, forbidden pleasure of it.
"Only pleasure," she moaned.
He paused, buried to the hilt inside her as she felt his hand cup her cheek.
She was lost in a haze of na**d desire and conflicting lusts. And love. She loved him until she wasn't certain what was right, what was wrong, or how to handle the emotions tearing through her.
"Not with us." His look was intent, the icy green eyes darkening, flaming. "Never again with us, Kia. You're mine." He pulled back, and some hold he had on his control seemed to break.
Kia felt it like a shock of heated, blazing sensation. It struck inside her, like a volcano erupting, spilling over her.
Chase gripped her hips, plunged inside her. His expression twisted into a mask of need. Not just lust, of need.
Kia felt her nails biting into his biceps as each pounding thrust dragged a helpless cry from her lips. Each shock of penetration, each stroke across sensitive nerve endings threw her higher.
"Do you hear me, Kia?" he suddenly snarled, one hand burying in the back of her hair, dragging her lips to his. "Fucking mine."
Kia shattered. The hard, forceful f**king of his c**k inside her, his hand tugging at her hair and then his lips taking her kiss with the same determined arrogance that he took her body sent her riding a wave that crashed and exploded into a sensory veil that wrapped her in pleasure, in exquisite ecstasy as he buried his face against her neck and began to pump his silky, heated release inside her.
And this time, she was very much afraid she had whispered the words she fought so hard to hold back.
"Oh God, Chase, I love you!"
Chase felt his arms tighten around her, felt the words hovering on his lips, but they didn't fall. His chest tightened until he wondered if his heart was going to explode within it, and all he could do was hold on to her.
Sweat poured from him, whether from the heat generated between them, or the emotions pushing, tearing inside him, he wasn't certain.
He knew he couldn't get enough of her. Even now, he could take her again, so easily. Pound inside her and know a pleasure unlike anything he had known before.
Instead, he released her. He stepped back, grimacing as his c**k slid from her ultratight grip with a surfeit of additional pleasure.
"Where did that come from?" Kia moaned, still resting against the mirror as her eyes opened and she stared at him.
She had felt it, too, he thought. Whatever it was that poured from him, mat wrapped around them and had him fighting to make certain she understood, he would never let her go easily.
"I'm not allowed answers now?" she asked.
Chase almost grinned. Only Kia could look and sound so perfectly haughty while still shuddering with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
"It came from us." He tried to shrug the question away.
Kia's eyes narrowed, but she let it go. There was something in his expression that warned her quite forcibly that right now wasn't a good time to push him. As she knew, there was no avoiding this party, and the clock was ticking. But the party would be over tonight, and tonight she would get her answers. Maybe.
As he helped her from the sink she realized that perhaps she didn't want answers right now. She wanted just a while longer in his arms before her emotions pushed her into the questions she wasn't certain she wanted answers to.
Could he ever love her? And what did belonging to him mean exactly? Mine. His voice had been rough, primal. It had been a declaration; it had been rife with possessiveness. Surely he wouldn't feel those emotions without feeling others?