The Last Time We Met - #Completed

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

I was sloppy drunk by the time we made it back to Kingsley's house, twisting my ankle in all kinds of those damn potholes the Kingsley is too cheap to get filled in.

Every time I fell or stumbled I laughed it off, not feeling anything except Kingsley's warm hand against my back. He led me upstairs (which was harder than it sounds) and inside his house. With one turn of the key in his pocket all of the lights came on, blinding me and sending me tumbling backward. Thank god he closed the door behind us or else I'd probably be just a red splatter at the bottom of the stairs.

I giggled gracelessly and found I couldn't stand up.

"Haha," I laughed at Kingsley who was looking a little frustrated with me. "My legs don't work." I laughed some more and laid my head down on the soft carpet, rubbing its soft texture between my fingertips. It was a really nice feeling.

"It's like I'm in a cloud," I hear myself say with a hiccup. "Kingsley, come here. Come float with me on the cloud."

He sighed and sat down on the floor next to my giggling body. I felt him brush a strand of my hair away from my face and I opened my mouth slightly, loving the way he touched me. Like I'm his little kitten.

"Kingsley," I moan. "I thought...I thought...you know," I say suggestively. I don't even know what I was trying to say, my thoughts were so jumbled. I couldn't think straight if my life depended on it.

"I know what?" he smiled tenderly, moving those gentle fingers of his from my temple to my cheek.

"You know," I repeat, my mouth suddenly dry. "I thought we came back here to--"

"Lay down," he interrupted.

Not what I was going to say, but close enough.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Lay down. Together."

He shifted his body so that he was kneeling and leaned over me. "Not tonight."

"Why not?" I whined. I knew it. He doesn't like me. I'm the only one in this.

"Because you're wasted," he said, and leaned so close to me I could feel his breath across my shaking lips.

I couldn't take it anymore. Even though my arm felt like it weighed half of my body I brought it around his neck and pulled him on top of me. Finally, after it seemed like years and years of not being touched by him, our lips met.

It was a slow kiss at first. All lips and hands, so sweet, so powerful and infusing. So uplifting and burning into me with the power of a hundred volts of electricity. My body shook with need for him, my hands ran through his hair desperately and over his back, seeking out every inch of his skin and claiming it mine so he would never leave me again. So he could never refuse to touch me.

He moaned against my mouth and I parted my lips for him to enter. He tasted just like I'd imagined he would. So perfect and without equal. So lovely and just...completely indescribable. It was ideal in every way. Just what the doctor ordered, and now I was filling my prescription with Kingsley, all of him.

He ran his hands over my body as if he couldn't get enough of it and then his lips disappeared away from mine to kiss each of my cheeks, my eyes, my nose, my forehead, just to leave a trail of fire back to my yearning lips again.

I pulled him closer still, following the rhythm of his lips until I lost myself completely. I felt like water spilling over the edge of a glass, like a leaf in the wind. I was so gone. No drug or art could ever compare to this masterpiece before me.

And then, right when I thought I couldn't burn with this insatiable passion any more, Kingsley pulled back. I whimpered, wanting more and more of him until he consumed me entirely, but he broke the contact. He stood up, restraint revealing itself in every muscle of his body.