The Insiders by Tijan
THIRTY-FIVE
I had fallen asleep.
The sheet lifted and I startled.
A hand touched my hip, sliding over my waist, and I felt the bed dip under his weight. “It’s just me.” Kash pulled me back to him, lining up his entire body against mine, and he kissed my shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”
He tightened his hold on me.
Another whisper. “I’ve got you.”
Another kiss.
And I slept.
I woke up hot. Like hot hot. I was panting. A mouth was on mine, kissing, licking, tasting. As I gasped awake, Kash was above me, his hand on my stomach, his mouth on mine, and he was claiming me. Legit possessive alpha claiming. A growl worked up from his throat and he lifted his head, rasping out, “Is this okay?” His hand trailed down my neck, moving south, moving, moving, trailing all the way down and moving aside my tank top like it was nothing. “Please tell me it’s okay.”
He shifted against me, his erection right there, and hard.
Desire slammed into my senses and I gasped from how violent my need for him was. “Yes.” I mewled. “God yes.” Moving to my side, I wound my arms around his neck, and his mouth was back on mine.
I was already a mix of writhing and boneless.
He was taking from me again, his mouth opening over mine, his tongue sliding inside, and I met him. I matched him, almost clawing to get closer. His hand moved to my thigh. We were both on our sides, pressed smack against each other, and we were both needing. Just needing. My leg moved between his and his hips rocked against mine. There. We paused. Both hissing from the touch. Molten desire speared in me.
I needed him now.
Not yesterday. Not an hour from now. Now.
“Kash,” I moaned.
“Bailey.”
All rational thought fled me.
Impatience and urgency were two very prominent themes happening inside of me now. I slid my hand to my stomach. He was shirtless. So much the better. I rolled my body against him, salivating at the feel of his muscles. They were tight and taut and pulsating with the control he was using. He was holding back.
I suddenly didn’t want him to hold back. Ever. Most certainly not now, not when I was aching, throbbing. I moved against him, grinding, and he hissed, his hand clamping on my thigh.
“Fuck, Bailey.” He gasped, his forehead going to mine, his eyes searching for me. “I want to…”
I heard his hesitation. I shook my head. No hesitation. There was no place for that, not in this bed. I started to tell him that, my voice completely wrecked, when he shifted our positions. He rolled me swiftly to my back and rose above me. Pushing my legs apart, he settled between me, and then rocked against me. Once more. Deliciously. Agonizingly. So. Fucking. Slow. I whimpered, biting my lip. My hands formed into fists, and I pushed them against his shoulder.
“Kash, please.”
He swooped down, his mouth catching my whimper.
He caught it and answered back with his own growl, but he didn’t move faster or harder. He held himself up, his arms braced on the bed beside me, and gazing down at me, holding my eyes, looking deep in me, he pushed against me.
He was wearing boxer shorts.
I was wearing sleeping shorts.
Why the hell were they both on?
I wanted to push at them, rip them off, but he chuckled, his mouth opening over mine again. “Not here.” A soft kiss. “Not when there’s two guards who can hear us.” A hard kiss. “This weekend.” A harder kiss. “At my place downtown.” The hardest kiss, and I caught the back of his head before he could lift up again.
“Fuck yes.” I lifted up, holding him in place, and kissing him. I was claiming him.
All those girls at that house last night. Hell no. All those orgies happening. Fuck no. They wanted him. Victoria. Her friends. Whatever was going on there. No, no, no. Just no. A primal thirst had opened inside me, and I wasn’t shutting it up. I was letting it out and I was reveling in it.
Kash was mine. I didn’t care who tried to take him from me, or who would take him from me. He was mine right now.
Mine. Just mine.
And for the next hour, he showed me how much I was his, too.
