Mess To Be Made

41

"I prefer the term 'persistent,' but sure," I barely murmured, completely breathless. My hands lifted from where they'd been hanging limply by my sides to bracket his neck before crashing my lips back onto his.

This time the kiss was anything but simple or sweet as we both responded to each other's touches fervently, not wanting to waste a single moment or breath apart. My body was pressed against him so tightly that I wasn't sure where my limbs ended and his began. Our eager hands began to roam, like both of us were blind trying to memorize every dip and crevasse of each other.

I was not expecting Tyler to be such a good kisser. Not that I didn't imagine kissing him would be spectacular. With how my body responded just from his glance in my direction, or the feeling of his hesitant hand on the small of my back, I had no doubt that his lips against mine would be pure ecstasy.

What had me questioning was that Tyler seemed guarded when it came to just about anything. Why would his kissing be any different.

Holy fuck, was I wrong about that.

He took control—something I always insisted upon having myself when hooking up. I was usually the one calling the shots. The most surprising part was that him having control didn't make me uneasy or anxious. In fact, I actually enjoyed being on the receiving end for once.

I enjoyed having his strong hand tangled in my hair, lightly pulling on the ends to guide my head in tandem with his. I enjoyed having him lead the dance between our mouths, twirling my tongue around like he'd spun me earlier on the dance floor. I enjoyed having him pull me onto his lap, his grip tightening on my thighs as he wrapped my legs around his waist. I enjoyed having him stand up with me latched onto him like a koala bear, his hands moving to my ass for support making me moan with delight into his mouth.

My back collided with the top of my duvet, and despite the impact, Tyler expertly kept our lips attached the whole time.

Control.

I found my hands bunching the fabric of his t-shirt tightly as I relentlessly pulled him closer to me, frustrated when the closest we could get still didn't satisfy me. I needed more.

My hands were able to explore more aggressively in this new position. The accelerating heat of his body had me aching under him. My fingers flew to the hem of my shirt before I ripped it off, disconnecting our embrace for no more than a few seconds before my hand curled around the back of his head, forcing his lips back on mine with an excited growl. He exhaled deeply into my mouth as his hands came in contact with my exposed midsection. His fingers gripped my ribs as he pinned me down against my duvet. I squealed from the pressure and how cold his palms felt against my burning skin.

"Allie," he groaned. My name vibrated like thunder between our lips and it kicked my urgency up a notch as my kisses became fast and needy. Every noise he made seemed to push me further and further over the edge and I found my hands reaching for his belt buckle.

I needed more.

He tilted his head up, angled away so my lips could no longer reach his. I remained undeterred, instead feathering kisses along his jaw while my hands continued fiddling with the notches on his belt.

"We have to stop."

I shook my head quickly as my lips trailed further down, settling on a spot on his throat. My words fought to come out, muffled against his flesh.

I needed more.

"No. No stopping."

I was so drunk off my new favorite cocktail, vodka and Tyler, that I barely heard him sigh raggedly, almost like he was forcing the air to come out. His hands wrapped around my shoulders, holding me down while the bed shifted beneath me. The weight got lighter.