(Book 1 in If I Could Series)
Fourteen alphabets. Four words. One text. And that was enough to upturn my entire life and all the beliefs I held about love.
𝗠𝗲 : 𝘋𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘔𝘦, 𝘔𝘳. 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳
And then I pressed send.
-
Vienna Bell, run by he...
AN: BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE KIDS. if you're uncomfortable reading hardcore smut, please stop reading when you feel like it.
you guys can choose to skip this part entirely if you don't like reading sexual scenes.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A nervous energy cackled between us since the moment Kyst declared he needed a thorough make-up and insinuated that we'd been doing more than just kissing.
The entire car ride, I remained silent, my head resting on his chest as he silently combed his fingers through my hair, the mere touch of him against mine enough to send shivers wrecking down my spine.
Right now though, as Kyst placed his key on the digital monitor and the door to his penthouse opened, I was already buzzing with nerves, my thighs clenching at the intense way he kept watching me.
Kyst slipped further into his house, rounding the foyer and discarding his jacket on the sofa. I bent down to remove my painfully high heels when a shadow loomed over me. "Keep those on," he demanded, his voice husky.
I gulped at the raw authority in his tone and straightened, my cheeks on fire. "W-why?" Fuck. Why the fuck am I stuttering?
His only form of answer was a sinister smirk as he turned around and walked back into the living room, obviously expecting me to follow. Kyst rounded his living room and stepped into the kitchen, the open layout of his house giving me the perfect view of him behind the counter as he rolled the sleeves of his button down upto his elbow, the delicious veins on his thick forearms popping up, tantalising me.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, my eyes zeroing in on his long, lean fingers and what they would be like in my mouth, on my breasts, in my puss—
As if smelling my arousal in the air, Kyst's head snapped up, his blue eyes darkening as they landed on mine and he beckoned me with his index and middle finger.
My legs had never felt as light and as jelly-like as they did now. It was a fleeting moment of giddiness and excitement, the exhilaration of his body against mine, his touch against mine. With sloppy movements, I rounded the kitchen counter and it was a miracle I didn't collapse when he tilted his neck, his eyes tracing a fiery, hot path on my skin.
He fisted his palms by his side, as if physically restraining himself from pounding me. A strange feeling passed over his features and he stepped further, causing me to stagger backwards. One of my heels slipped sideways and I stumbled before my hand latched onto the side of the kitchen counter and my hip was pinned to it, Kyst hovering over me.
