“Katsy?”
“Don’t say it. Don’t contaminate this moment with her. I’m sorry you had to see that.” I pressed closer, as if to rid myself of the unwanted image. “Just know that I will never touch her again…unless I’m crushing her throat with my bare hands.”
I knew what I was promising: sacrificing my correspondence with G, and risking Katsy snitching on my dealings—which she would. Still, I promised, and I fucking meant it. For this moment, this one snapshot of time with Micah.
I shook the concept from my head, not wanting to dwell on my depressing future, but instead bathing in the present.
My reassurance was enough. Micah relaxed in my hold and wiggled her position, trying to get comfortable in the limited space. She hitched a leg over my waist, the slit of her pencil skirt baring open to flash the lacy top of her thigh-high stocking.
My hand dug into the flesh of her upper leg to stop further ascent, her centre so close to scraping against my expanding arousal.
With all my concentration slamming down on my wayward hormones, I didn’t recognise Micah’s advance until she pressed a kiss to my lips.
I kissed her back.
Her hand roamed to the back of my neck as her addictive mouth fed me my soul. My grip involuntarily tightened, stamping my fingerprints into her skin as she released a contented sigh.
If this was all illusion, I never wanted to return to reality.
MICAH
We kissed for what seemed both like a second and an eternity. Time wasn’t a structure when I was wrapped in his arms. My body thrummed in satisfied content, and when his lips wrapped around my tongue, my nerve endings short-circuited, distributing an all-over shudder.
“So sensitive,” he said, voice husky.
“It’s my Variant.”
“Then pray tell. What is it, so I can help it along?” Using an elbow, he shifted upward, licking up the length of my neck in one fluid motion. “You have a tiny beauty spot right here.” His head bowed to suck below my jawline, the spot extremely sensitive, sending shockwaves straight to my centre.
“I can sense the way people feel.”
“You’re an empath? As in, you sense people’s emotions?” He never stopped his ministration, speaking in between his well-attended task.
“Not exactly. It’s more complicated than that, more…encompassing and integral than sensing one’s emotions.” Lifting a hand, I lightly trailed my fingers up his arm, goosebumps raised over his tattooed skin, chasing the movement. “When I’m in close proximity to someone, I get a flash of insight from their core within.”
August paused, his face hovering above. His swollen lips tilted upward when my hand came to rest on the centre of his steady, thumping chest. “My body receives a physical response to the way someone is feeling at that given time, but more importantly, I sense their deep-seated intentions.”
Warm fingers circled patterns up and down the exposed flesh between my panties and stocking, my eyes closing at the overwhelming heat gathering in the wake of his touch.
My teeth sunk into my bottom lip in order to regain some semblance of stability. Hopeless need was only growing, and with him this close, I was rapidly losing complete command of any conviction.
“Can you sense my intentions right now?” August whispered, his breath brushing over my lips in the softest caress, wandering fingertips lifting higher and higher.
“My ability is most responsive when I’m in direct contact,” I managed to breathe, my voice hitching when his knuckles slid over my delicate inner thigh.
“Then tell me, Micah. Tell me what it is you feel,” August said, reaching the edge of my soaked panties.
My eyes flew open to find his gaze locked on mine with laser focus, the shocking black so depthless, so infinite—and frankly disturbing. Yet I found myself more than willing to submerge and subsequently drown in the devastating abyss.
“You,” I replied. “All I feel is you.”
All manner of thought evaporated when his fingers skimmed beneath the fabric and swiped through my sensitive core.
August tortured me, savouring my submission with his compelling touch, his strokes gentle, efforts unhurried. He drank down my moans and ravished my body, never succumbing to my commands for more.
He removed my clothes with firm precision, laying me naked and exposed before his fevered gaze. He relinquished his shirt in return, remaining in his jeans, his eyes scoring burning flames over my skin and causing smoke and ash to barrage my mind.
Climbing above me, his forehead bowed, resting against the tattoo between my breasts. “Fuck,” he uttered. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I fucking swear it.”
“Do you want to stop?”
August’s canines sharply nipped my skin. “That’s the problem. I won’t ever want to stop.” He shifted his head and aggressively sucked my nipple into his mouth. And when his teeth sunk into the delicate peak, my ribcage nearly fractured from my erratically pounding heart.
His hands and mouth never left my body, endlessly caressing, kneading, licking and sucking. He was attentive and particular, never intruding on the place I wanted him most—needed him most.
“August,” I pleaded, pushing my pelvis upward, searching for friction.
August heard my call and settled on my side. He kissed me on the mouth and his hand finally lowered between my legs, circling my throbbing, slick entrance.
He shuddered, a distinct growl escaping his clenched teeth. “Perfect tits, perfect fucking pussy. You were made for me, Micah.” I gyrated into his hand, demanding more contact. “Hush, baby, I’ve got you. Couldn’t think of a better way to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?”
“For saving me…in more ways than one.” Before I could question his statement, he pushed two fingers into my weeping pussy, both of us relinquishing a groan.
His pumps increased in tempo and rhythm, sending quakes of pleasure reverberating through my bones. His thumb soon raised to my clit to join in the assault, the motion of his hand in perfect synchronisation.
