This is a continuation of "The Jealous Kind"...
Previously:
She thought there was no need to pretend anymore. She really wanted to crawl into bed and snuggle with him, so she did. She laid her head on his shoulder, draped her arm across his stomach, and wrapped her leg around his. She leaned up and kissed his neck, and then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
When they woke up wrapped around each other the next morning, it was clear they weren't playing a game anymore.
***
Serkan
I come out of my deep drug-induced sleep suddenly, but my eyes are still closed.
The first thing I remember is that I kissed her last night.
And then I realize that I'm holding Eda and that we must've slept this way all night; her head is on my chest, one hand curled up under her chin and the other on my stomach, and her bare legs are tangled with mine. I look down at her face and she's just so fucking beautiful she makes my breath catch in my throat. I feel like I'm looking into the face of Aphrodite, and it's hard to look at her for too long--I feel like I'm not worthy.
I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, letting my fingertips glide across her cheek before my hand settles on her arm. I try my best to convince myself that she doesn't feel like she belongs in my arms, and I try to steel myself against her warmth, her softness, but I tighten my hold on her and pull her even closer to my body, stroking her hair, feeling its silkiness between my fingers.
My traitorous mind goes back to the kiss. Technically, she kissed me, but I kissed her back. And to be fair, I started it when I confessed my jealousy and told her I felt something for her. When I started kissing her face, I was basically inviting her to take things a step further, and she did. What did I expect?
She was the one who stopped it, though. If I'm honest, I was disappointed and relieved at the same time because I don't think I could have stopped if she hadn't. She was nervous...but happy nervous...and she was so cute.
Cute? Do I even use that word?
Sometimes there's no better word to describe her, though. Like when I completely planned on going to Apollo's temple alone to watch the meteor shower, and then she looked at me with those pleading puppy eyes. Cute. Even thinking about it now makes me smile.
I don't want to smile when I think about her.
I want to roll my eyes and scowl and think she's ridiculous and be mad that she oversteps her bounds.
She makes me do things I'd never do on my own. She's the impulsive one, but I can't seem to deny her anything and I find myself in situations I'd never imagined being in. She's bad for my self control. She makes trouble for me.
No, we can't be together. I wish I hadn't let her crawl inside of me and take hold of my heart. It's too late for me to lock her out now. When she touches me, I swear there's a sizzle. Can I still call it just attraction if I also think she's brave and fun and sweet and talented and open and honest and so, so good?
I sigh and look at her again, sleeping so comfortably in my embrace. I don't want to lead her on. We're not good for each other. She thinks I'm too serious and I think she's too flighty.
But really, that's not how I feel anymore. She makes me want to wish on falling stars and hold her hand under waterfalls and cook for her just so I can see the look on her face when she takes her first bite. She makes me want to do anything and everything to see her smile. She brings me out of me.
I rub my cheek against her hair and inhale. She smells like flowers. The light, wild scent invades my senses and I press my lips against her temple, then her forehead. Her skin is warm and soft and I can't seem to make myself stop kissing her.
She stirs, and I open my eyes. When I look at her, I'm met with her sleepy dark eyes looking up at me through those unearthly eyelashes of hers.
She smiles at me brightly and raises her eyebrow in that way that she has of letting me know I'm doing a bad job of keeping my feelings a secret, and I smile back, holding her gaze. She knows now that she has me wrapped around her finger and she loves it.
I look down at her full pink lips and then back up at her eyes, and I see her eyes do the same. Her breath comes a little faster, and mine does too. Her lips are so close to mine now that I can almost feel their magnetic pull. We move toward each other ever so slowly until our lips touch and her hand comes up to hold my face. Our lips meet again and again in sleepy kisses, just lips--sultry and sweet at the same time. It almost seems like we're asking each other for permission to keep going and neither one of us wants to be the one to give in or give up.
"Serkan," she kisses me again. "What are we doing?"
My lips land on hers again and my tongue runs along her plump bottom lip. "Kissing," I answer before I kiss her again.
"Hmm." She nips at my top lip. "Is this something we do now?" She pulls back a little to look me in the eye. "Should we put it in our contract?" She's smiling at me again, that smile that lights up my whole world.
"Olur," I say, hugging her and burying my face in her neck. I kiss her there, my mouth open, my tongue tasting her skin. She leans her head to the side and threads her fingers through my hair, encouraging me to continue, and I'm more than willing to walk into the fire.
I roll us over so she's on her back and I'm on top of her and take her mouth again, kissing her deeply. One of my hands glides down her neck to her chest. My hand covers her breast through her pajama top and my thumb skims back and forth over her nipple, making her whimper and squirm under me. I want to hear all of her sounds.
Eda
Serkan's hands on my body, his lips on mine, make me feel like one of those falling stars, like a stream of fire flying through space. He's teasing me with his fingers, and we're kissing like we want to devour each other. My sweet robot is surprisingly passionate.
My hands roam restlessly over his back, unable to feel as much as I want them to. I want to touch his skin.
I slide my hands up under his T-shirt and he moans in my mouth. His skin is smooth and soft and I knead his muscles, reveling in the solid feel of him under my hands. His mouth moves from mine to kiss his way down my neck to my chest. He unbuttons my pajama top and nuzzles the curve of my breast. "You're so beautiful," he breathes, his gravelly voice making me shiver with arousal. I hold my breath, waiting for what I know is coming, and when his warm wet mouth closes over my nipple, I feel it in the throbbing between my legs. I whisper his name and scrape my nails down his back, rubbing my legs against his.
He grinds himself against me and I can feel the bulge in his shorts right against my core. He's right where I need him and he feels so delicious, I laugh, a little delirious with pleasure. He lifts his head from my breast and looks up at me, the serious look on his face comical. "Are you laughing, Eda?"
His question coupled with the expression on his face makes me giggle. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little out of my head." I give him three pecks on his pouting lips. "You feel so good, Serkan. Don't be grumpy." I raise my hips off the bed, seeking friction. "Don't stop, please," I beg, pulling his head up to mine. I rub my nose against his, our lips brushing.
He closes his eyes, and I can tell he's trying to regain control. When he opens them, his pupils are blown, and he looks at me with such desire, my heart pounds in my chest. I kiss his cheek and rub my cheek against his, his scruff scratching my skin.
His hand comes up to caress my face. "Eda..." he starts. I see him swallow hard and I wrap my arms around him and hold him to me, my affection for him overwhelming me.
I kiss his neck, his jaw, his ear. "I think I might love you, Serkan Bolat." I press my cheek against his ear, afraid to look at him.
He raises his head to look at me. "The feeling might be mutual, hanımefendi."
