“Cherisse.” Her name was a whisper, one she could barely hear over the roaring in her ears. That damn heartbeat, triple-timing it. But oh, she heard it. Heard the way her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. Noticed the way his eyes dropped to her mouth. It was a question, too. May I?

“Yeah?” Her casualness belied the banging of her heart against her chest. Was it normal for a heart to race like this? How was she still alive?

“I...this will sound...Jesus, I don’t even know, but can I...?” He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. He drew in a deep breath, eyes still fixed to her mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lip, which in turn drew her gaze. Lips slightly parted, his breath unsteady, the mood shifted, tension crackling between their bodies.

“Do it.” The words slipped past her lips before she could instruct her brain to reel them in, hold them back, but she held his stare. Waiting. Consent had been given, and in the same breath, a challenge had been issued. She didn’t move. She was waiting too now. Wanting...

She felt the brush of his lips against hers right down to her toes.

Keiran was kissing her, and she’d let him. Knew she could’ve ended it before his lips ever touched hers, but the wanting got the better of her. She was even more shocked when she turned the simple brush of his lips against hers into something deeper, hotter. Her hands gripped the back of his neck as her tongue tangled with his. He tasted sweet, like the dessert he’d so hungrily licked from his spoon. Now she had that same tongue in her mouth, feasted on it, pressing into his body as much as she could.

She felt him hard against her. Sweatpants truly were a gift from God. She should pull back, stop this. She was kissing Keiran King! There was nothing to prepare her for that. But her touch-starved body was leading the show, enjoying the way his hands rested right above her ass, slowly kneading at her lower back, driving her wild. He couldn’t know it was one of her zones—she loved having her ass fondled—but damn if he hadn’t found it without even really trying.

She envisioned him grasping her ass firmly in his hands, rubbing, teasing, learning the feel of her, and before she’d even made the conscious decision, she was moving them backwards towards her couch. He was helping. They were both in sync on where their bodies wanted to go as they kept on kissing, exploring each other’s wet heat. This was definitely hazardous, this blind shuffle to the couch. She hoped Jello was observant enough to get out of the way, but she didn’t want this kiss to end. Her body wanted one thing: to get him down there so she could straddle him, keep kissing, keep nibbling, do something about the building ache between her legs. The bulge she felt against her could help with that just fine. A slow grind against that hardness was next on her agenda.