And I opened.
I parted my lips and met his tongue with mine, a sharp zip of electricity stunning me at the collision. It was as if his tongue stroked me between my thighs rather than in my mouth, and I squeezed my legs tighter together against the foreign sensation even as I leaned in for more.
Clay moaned, one hand tightening where he held me against him as the other slid down from my face, over my neck, and right over the swell of my heaving chest.
The gasp that slight brush elicited from me was guttural and automatic, so violent that my eyes shot open. But Clay kissed me even more fervently as his hand continued trailing down, his palm warm and confident when it settled over the inside of my thigh.
It was possessive, the way he cradled me, the way he pulled me in tighter, kissed me harder, his hand slowly pushing up under the hem of my skirt.
I gasped, head arching back as Clay moved easily from my mouth to my neck once more.
And again… I opened.
The signal didn’t come from my brain, but from a longing so powerful in the very core of who I was that it was impossible to fight against. My legs uncrossed, knees spreading just enough to let him push that hand up under the fabric of my skirt even higher.
My next breath was shaky and shallow, and Clay pressed a feather-light kiss to the skin just beneath my ear.
“Okay?” he asked, simple and soft. That one word seemed to ground me, to bring me back to the room, to reality, to him.
I think I nodded. I think I gave some sort of murmur of affirmation before his tongue licked along my jaw line and back to my mouth. He pressed his forehead against mine, and when my lids flickered open, I found his emerald eyes blazing down at me.
Time stuttered to a stop, the noise of the party dying on a breath. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of where Clay’s breath met my mouth, where his chest swelled and fell in rhythm with mine, where his hand crawled achingly slowly up, up, up.
The rough pads of his fingertips slid tenderly along my inner thigh, the skin so beyond sensitive I couldn’t do anything but quake and hold onto him for dear life. It was unmarked skin, never touched by anyone but me.
Clay dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, plump from kissing me senseless, and his eyes held mine as he dared to go even higher.
I spread my legs wider, letting him in.
Until he ran the entire length of his index finger right along the soaked cotton of my thong.
I whimpered, a gasp of a moan roaring out of me at the touch, at the feeling of his sure, steady palm against the most private and sensitive part of me. And when he felt my desire, he groaned, his mouth capturing mine just as he retracted his finger only to glide it along that same line of fire with more pressure.
Stars.
No, not stars, a black hole, suffocating and life-ending, was born where he touched me. I gasped, eyes flying open, heart seizing in panic beneath my tight ribcage.
“Meow.”
The word was a breathy plea when it slipped unbidden from my lips, and Clay froze, his heart beating hard enough I could feel it through his shirt as I pressed my hand into his chest and forced space between us.
“Meow,” I repeated, louder, firmer.
Recognition hit his face, and Clay paled, peeling himself off me with concern laden in his eyes. “Giana,” he tried, but I couldn’t look at him any longer.
I couldn’t be near him, couldn’t contain the fire roaring inside me.
I faked a smile, brushed a kiss against his cheek like I was fine just in case Maliyah or anyone else was watching. I stood as slowly and coolly as I could, fixing my hair and righting my skirt before I strolled toward the bathroom.
But as soon as I was out of eyesight, I took a hard left.
And I ran.
Clay
My heart was a thunderous march of stallions in my ears as I weaved through the crowded party, eyes trained on Giana’s back. Her breaths were more haggard and uneven with every step, and when she disappeared around the edge of the kitchen only to take off in a full run for the door, I let out a curse, pushing past people to follow her.
I’d gone too far.
That safe word was never meant to be used, never meant to be anything more than a joke between us. But I’d pushed, taking advantage of her trust, giving in to my own selfish desire as playing with her in that party became less about Maliyah and more about seeing what noises I could get to come from that pretty mouth of hers.
I hadn’t meant to. I’d only intended to kiss her, to peek my eyes open at where I knew Maliyah was watching from the dance floor and show her just how moved on I was. But the more Giana opened for me, the more she writhed under my touch…