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I hate being touched. There’s no reason for it. I’ve just always despised any form of physical contact.
We know it's gonna be ONLY HER
Kiara wraps her free arm around my lower back, pressing closer to me. Knowing she’s looking for safety in my arms makes possessiveness pour through my veins.
🫠🫠🫠
“Because I can touch you.” I tilt my head. “I. Can. Touch. You. Kiara.”
Fuck does she need the time. It’s the only reason I haven’t gone caveman on her ass yet. The urge to claim her rears up in my chest.
“Like I said, I’ve never done this before. All I know is I won’t be able to let you go. I want to be able to touch you whenever I want.”
“You feel it too, Kiara.” My eyes lock with hers again. “We were meant to cross paths. It feels like you’re the other half of me.”
“I’m obsessed with you.” “That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” she teases me.
She stares at me as if I’m some miracle that happened to her and not the other way around. Shaking my head, I whisper, “You’re the miracle, baby.”
“Safest place for you is in my arms,” he murmurs as he climbs the stairs.
“Do you know gray sweatpants on a man is porn for a woman?” “Is that so?” I chuckle as I take a seat on the couch.
