Authors: Mila Gray
and then walks to the end of the bed and slides off my
shoes, putting them down on the floor. I watch him, my
chest rising and falling fast as my heart starts to race. He
looks up and gives me a small smile, and something tugs
at me. I’m suddenly nervous as hell, even though I know
we’re not going to have sex.
Kit comes and lies beside me. He places his hand on
my waist, and for half a minute we just watch each other,
lying on our sides, face to face. My breathing speeds up
and butterflies cluster in my stomach. The look he’s fixing
me with is pure desire, but it’s laced with something
more, something deeper and more intense that makes my
heart expand as though it’s trying to squeeze past the
bars of my ribs. He wants me, but he’s also letting me
know that he’s happy with just this, that this is enough
for him.
I place my hand on his cheek and trace his cheekbone
and his jaw. He presses his lips to my palm and takes my
hand, kissing my wrist and then slowly dropping kisses
all the way up to my elbow. Little shivers shoot up my
arm and neck. I close my eyes and draw in a breath as his
lips brush my shoulder and he eases down the strap of
my dress before tracing a line along my collarbone and
neck.
Finally he reaches my lips and kisses me, slowly, ten-
derly. There’s a fire in my belly and it spreads out, flames
licking down my legs. A gentle throbbing echoes out from
my core as his hands start slowly exploring their way
down my body, following the curve of my hip and run-
ning down to my thigh. I roll against him, pushing my
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body against his, wanting to feel the hardness of his chest,
the weight of him on top of me, but Kit takes my wrist
and pins me flat to the bed, not with any force but
enough to let me know he’s taking control.
‘Tonight,’ he says, looking down at me, ‘is all about
you. I just want you to lie here and let me take care of
you.’
I can’t speak − my heart is beating too fast and my
lungs won’t fill with air.
‘I want you to know what you mean to me, OK?’
I try to protest but he cuts me off. ‘And if I’m going too
fast, or you want me to stop, at any point for whatever
reason, just say. OK?’
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
He leans over me once more and starts kissing me
gently, his tongue twining with mine, teasing and sure,
and after a while I relax, sighing as I sink into the bed. He
nudges my head to one side and moves his attention to
the spot just beneath my ear that he knows makes me
squirm. His hands begin to wander down my dress. The
satin feels like cool water flowing against my body, but
Kit’s hands sear heat through it, making me feverish, my
skin so sensitive to the touch, it hurts. He sweeps his
hand over my breast, surprising me, and I arch up with a
cry, my nipple hardening.
He pulls the strap of my dress down and takes it in his
mouth and I have to clutch the sheets to hold myself
down. His tongue traces patterns across my skin and I let
go of the sheets and run my fingers through his hair, grip-
ping him by the shoulders as he sucks harder, making my
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stomach muscles contract tight and a low throb start up
between my legs.
Kit sits up and pulls me up with him so we’re both
kneeling on the bed. I start undoing his shirt and he
watches me the whole time, a strange look on his face,
like he’s having to fight every instinct in his body not to
pick me up in his arms and toss me back onto the bed.
When I strip his shirt off and place my palms on his
chest he doesn’t make any move, but his arms are locked
tight by his sides and the muscles in his neck are taut as
a bow. I lean forward and kiss him, breathing in deep,
tasting his skin, but after a few moments he pulls back.
‘Can I undress you?’ he asks.
I nod, nerves making me gulp in breaths which makes
my head spin.
Kit reaches towards my knees and takes hold of the
hem of my dress. Slowly he starts lifting it, running his
palms along my thighs as he does. I lift my arms in the air
and he slides my dress up and over my head. I keep my
eyes closed, embarrassed and a little self-conscious. I’m
kneeling in front of him, almost naked, and I can feel his
eyes on me, as warm as his hands.
‘Open your eyes,’ I hear him say.
I do. He’s looking right at me. He takes my face in his
hand and kneels closer. ‘You are so goddamn sexy, I could
just look at you all night.’ He brushes my lips with his
and then lowers me to the bed.
I’m so taut with expectation, so painfully, deliciously
on edge, that when Kit starts stroking his hands across
my stomach and breasts I think I’m going to burst into
flames. Every time I try to reach for him he brushes my
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hand away. ‘It’s just about you, remember,’ he murmurs,
a smile in his voice.
He spends an age just stroking my stomach, caress -
ing my breasts, dropping kisses on every inch of me . . .
except for the one place I’m desperate for him to touch.
I’m still wearing my underwear and I’m aching for him,
so turned on that I wrap my arms around his neck and
pull him down on top of me, desperate to feel his weight
on top of me, to feel him next to me skin to skin. He
groans and tries to pull away, but I hold on tight.
‘I want you,’ I say.
‘No,’ he answers. ‘Not tonight.’
‘Please,’ I hear myself say, and I can’t believe I’m beg-
ging. My skin is burning, my eyes are burning, thoughts
evaporate in my head faster than they arrive. I can’t think
straight, I just know that there’s nothing I want more
right now than Kit. I need him.
Kit kisses me, harder this time, and I feel his arousal,
can feel how hard he is. He wants me too. I try to reach
for him, but he scoots out of my arms and backs away
with a playful smile on his lips.
I watch him through heavy lids. Stubble is darkening
his jaw and there are thin red lines across his chest where
I’ve scratched him. I don’t have time to process this
before his hands are on my hips. I lift up without him
even having to ask me and, keeping his eyes on me the
whole time, he pulls off my underwear.
I bite my lip as I watch him, the muscles in his arms
contracting as he lifts me, the wave of barely restrained
desire that crosses his face. My hips lift of their own
accord. Kit kneels between my thighs, parting them
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gently, and then he kisses me, right between my legs, and
I let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure, pleasure that
instantly ratchets up another notch as his tongue starts to
circle and tease.
Holy . . .
I bite my lip even harder to stop myself from scream-
ing out, my fingernails digging into his back. Within
seconds Kit brings me to the brink of orgasm, my first
with any guy, but as though he senses it he pulls back,
stopping. I flop down onto the bed, letting out a moan,
and after a moment during which my heart batters
against my ribs in frustration, his fingers start exploring
where his tongue left off. When he pushes inside me for
the first time, my eyes fly open and I rise up off the bed.
He rubs me with his thumb and again in seconds I’m on
the brink, calling out his name. He stops abruptly once
more and I want to cry at the pleasure mixed with pain
he’s causing me. I’m blinded by how much I want to feel
him inside me, but before I can reach for him he bends
again and, using his tongue, brings me to the most
insane, body-melting, bone-crushing orgasm I’ve ever
experienced.
I don’t know how long it lasts but I lie there feeling
wave after wave of pleasure pulling me down into a hazy
dreamland. I’m vaguely aware of Kit lying beside me,
stroking my belly and dropping the occasional kiss on my
shoulder as I shudder, my muscles still spasming. Slowly
the world starts to press in again, and I become aware
that I’m still lying naked, splayed on the bed. I curl onto
my side, pressing against Kit and he pulls me into his
arms and kisses the top of my head.
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It’s only now that I start to become embarrassed. I just
lie there. I didn’t do anything. He must be so frustrated.
Oh God. I reach for him.
‘What are you doing?’ he murmurs, his lips against my
ear.‘I want to return the favour,’ I say, looking up at him.
He shifts out of my reach. ‘You don’t need to,’ he says,
taking my hand and kissing the palm. ‘That wasn’t a
favour. I loved it every much as you seemed to.’
‘Really?’ I ask sceptically. The guy I hooked up with in
London expected everything to be quid pro quo (defi-
nitely more quid than pro).
‘Yes, that was just about the hottest thing I’ve ever
experienced,’ Kit says, laughing under his breath. ‘I’m just
lying here wondering when we get to go for round two.’
‘What?’ I ask, propping myself up on one elbow.
‘I want to make you come like that all night.’
I feel myself flush. ‘No,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘It’s
your turn.’
‘That can wait.’
‘Why? Why are you doing this?’ I ask, half in wonder
and half petulantly.
Kit’s jaw tenses and he frowns. ‘Because,’ he says, look-
ing away, ‘I want to prove to you that I’m not what your
brother thinks I am.’
My breath catches. Is that what this is about? ‘I know
you’re not, Kit,’ I say softly, trying to pull his head back
around so he’s facing me.
His eyes flash at me. ‘Do you?’ he asks, and I see the
hurt in his eyes – put there by my brother − and the fear.
He thinks I might believe it.
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I nod. ‘I know exactly who you are, remember?’
There’s a nakedness in his expression, a vulnerability
I’ve never seen in Kit before. He’s normally so confident
and self-possessed.
‘I’ve never felt this way before, Jessa,’ he says. ‘I don’t
want to fuck it up.’
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Jessa stares at me, her eyes welling with tears. She looks
so beautiful and vulnerable and I can’t believe she gifted
me her body the way she just did. I’m not going to screw
it up, no matter how she looks at me, no matter what she
says.
I get up from the bed.
‘Where are you going?’ she asks me.
‘To run a bath,’ I say, grinning at her.
In the bathroom I switch on the hot tap, empty in all
the bubble bath containers, and take a deep, deep breath.
When that doesn’t work I hold my head under the cold
tap. I need to cool down. I can still smell her on me, taste
her on my tongue, and it’s driving me crazy.
When the bath’s ready and I think I finally have a grip,
I head into the bedroom. Jessa is still lying naked on the
bed and I have to pause in the doorway, all my resolve
coming undone in an instant. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of
seeing Jessa with no clothes on. She has no idea how
beautiful she is. I like it that she seems to have abandoned
her inhibitions too. She seems to enjoy the way I look
at her when she’s naked and there’s a knowing smile
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playing on her face when she stands up and sashays
towards me. I have to turn around. She’s taunting me so
badly. I know what she’s trying to do. She’s trying to
make me relent.
I make her get in the bath first. Then I shrug off my
pants and boxers. I’m not shy about my body. I work out
a lot and from the reactions I’ve had from the girls I’ve
been with I know it doesn’t disappoint, but seeing Jessa’s
face when I turn to face her I wish I had a camera with
me. She gulps and draws a huge breath before a danger-
ous smile spreads across her face.
She scoots forwards in the bath and I climb in behind
her, drawing her back against my chest, my thighs on
either side of hers. Soapy, slippery Jessa is even more sexy
than naked, sashaying Jessa, and I wonder why I thought
I could keep the upper hand in this situation. She turns
around to face me, her body half-obliterated with soap
bubbles, and reaches beneath the water for me.
I jolt at her touch, half the bathwater splashing over the
sides and onto the floor. I try to protest but then she starts
moving her hand and I sink down in the bath and give up