Yes, I think.
Something is definitely wrong.
Somebody is here.
I glance behind me again, giving one last look at the street, before turning back to her, offering a small smile so not to alarm her. She's too drunk to feel it right now, I think. "It's nothing."
I turn the key, finishing the last lock, and push open the front door. I motion for her to go ahead of me inside, trying to shove down those feelings of being watched as they nag at me. Karissa doesn't listen, though, wavering on the porch, before she steps closer until she's almost flush up against me. I stare down at her, watching as she slowly licks her lips.
She reaches up on her tiptoes but I stop her, palming her cheeks, cradling her face in my hands. I hold her there, her lips a few inches from mine, as I stare into her dark eyes, looking for some sign of uncertainty.
"You're drunk," I say seriously. "You don't know what you're doing."
"I know exactly what I'm doing," she whispers. "I'm just a little drunk. I'm not an idiot. I know who you are... what you are... I know what you've done. And I know what I'm doing, too. I know what I want."
"And what's that?" I ask. "What do you want?"
She reaches up and grabs my wrists, pulling my hands away from her face. She's not strong enough to force me to move them, but I don't resist. She pushes back up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine as her eyelids flutter closed.
I kiss her back, but I keep my eyes open.
That feeling won't stop, won't go away, building and building inside of me. I'm paranoid and starved, too damn exhausted to deal with it. As soon as I try to pull away from Karissa's lips, she wraps her arms around my neck and pushes me toward the open doorway, into the foyer. I step backward, finally breaking the kiss, and look out at the street again suspiciously.
A shadow moves in my peripheral.
Maybe it's my imagination.
Maybe I just need some fucking sleep.
My head turns that way, but I see nothing in the darkness, nothing but trees and grass, cars and mailboxes. Fireworks pop off in the distance, filling the air with loud cracks like far away gunshots, causing wounds that Karissa soothes when she kisses me again.
Fuck it.
I slam the door closed, tinkering with the locks, making sure every one of them is secure before giving her my undivided attention. Whatever's out there, be it friend or foe, the shadows or the wind, isn't going to get inside and hurt what I have right here.
We make our way upstairs, not rushing but not hesitating, her lips glued to mine, her arms wrapped around my neck. I kiss her deeply, each second more passionate, as my hands settle on her hips, fingertips brushing the bare skin beneath the hem of her shirt.
I break the kiss long enough to pull her top off. She raises her arms straight up in the air, surrendering to me as I strip her. Her clothes are discarded fast but I intend to take it slow, to savor every moment.
I pull her onto the bed, climbing on top of her fully clothed, my lips moving from her mouth and down her cheek, to her chin and neck, working my way along her jawline. I kiss and nip at the skin, my tongue grazing her salty flesh, as her hands run along my back, beneath my shirt.
Sitting up, I tug it off and toss it aside before my mouth finds her chest. I circle a nipple with my tongue before wrapping my lips around it, sucking on the sensitive flesh. She moans, arching her back, as she fists my hair.
"Please," she pleads when I move to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as I awkwardly kick off my shoes, discarding them at the end of the bed. "Please, Naz."
I kiss along her collarbones before finding her mouth again, smothering her begging with my lips. I shove my shorts down, fumbling to get them off without breaking the kiss, and settle between her legs. The warmth radiating from her makes me shiver. I can still smell the sun on her skin, the scent intoxicating me when I inhale sharply as I push inside of her.
Fuck, she feels so good wrapped around me. So good, that it's hard to believe something like this could ever be bad. That I could ever be wrong for her. And I know I am… I'm the last person she should give herself to… but moments like this, when she gasps, that first sudden exhale, like she's surprised by how perfect we fit together, like she's finally whole again after missing a part of her, gives me hope.
Hope that maybe, even though it's wrong, somehow I can find a way to make it all right.
"Tell me," I whisper, running my tongue along the shell of her ear. "Tell me how you want it to be. Tell me what you need from me."
I'll give her anything.
I'll tear my fucking chest open with my bare hands, rip out my heart and hand it to her, if that's what she needs.
All she has to do is tell me.
All she has to do is ask.
She could bark out a million demands, and I would work myself to the death making them all happen, but instead she merely whispers, "I want you to love me."
So I do.
I love her.
I take my time inside of her, my lips never leaving her skin as I thrust deep, filling her with every inch of me that I can. I make love to her until her skin is flushed, coated in another layer of sweat, until she starts pleading with me again, this time to give her more.
Harder.
Deeper.
More.
More.
More.
Her breasts are flush against my chest, her nipples hard as she presses them into me like she's desperate for more friction. Her hands rake down my spine, not digging into the skin, not drawing blood, but I can feel the mark they leave behind, a trail of tingles I can't shake. My face is nuzzled into her neck as I breathe heavily, panting, my tongue lapping at the sweaty skin before I press my lips to the spot just below her ear and suck. She squeals, fisting my hair again.
I can feel her body tensing beneath me as I slide in and out of her, holding her so close I graze her clit with each stroke. I increase the pace, just enough to thrust a bit deeper, to hit it a bit harder.
She lets out a strangled noise, throwing her head back. I bite down on her shoulder as she comes, listening to her cries of pleasure as the tiny convulsions rock her body. I can feel mine getting close, building inside of me. I don't have the energy to hold it back, to delay it any longer.
I shiver, grunting into her neck as I come inside of her just as her own orgasm starts to fade. I thrust a few times, riding through the waves of pleasure, before stilling on top of her.
I don't move away, don't let go of her, staying deep inside of her as I hold her against me, listening to her raspy breaths, feeling her pulse as her heart frantically beats.
Don't regret it, I think, closing my eyes. Don't tell me you regret giving yourself to me.