C2 Half-touch

"What?" Lisa asked in shock. She felt slightly suspicious of him. Why would he use a different name? She could hear 'I told you so' from her sister from where she was.

"Gus is actually my middle name" he said.

"I just don't answer it. I prefer to answer Ian instead"

"Then why did you use Gus on your profile?" She asked

He smiled slightly.. "my friend is responsible for that. He said Gus will attract more women than Ian"

Lisa scoffed. "I didn't pick you because of your name"

"Oh really?" He teased. "Why then did you pick me?"

"Let's leave that answer for later" she said

"I truly am sorry" he said. "You know what, let me make it up to you"

He held her hand and took her out of the bar. He led her on a street which bustled with people and when she almost got tired of walking without a destination, they arrived at a fountain. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in a long time.

"I come here when I've had a crappy day" he said. "It takes away my worries"

She felt it too. All her worries and doubts, big or little were slipping away.

It felt like a magical moment between she and Ian.

He closed the distance between them in two short strides, gathering her into his arms, and claimed her mouth with an undeniable and unyielding possession. A gasp that sounded like surrender and felt like fire engulfed his soul.

Mine.

And in a single heartbeat, her name etched itself irrevocably deep within him.

Every single defence she’d thought she had against him crumbled the moment his lips met hers. A summer storm, fierce and furious, answering every single one of her unspoken prayers—and then as quickly as he had come for her, he tore his mouth from hers.

‘Cristo,’ he said, his forehead pressed against hers, his chest heaving with their shared breath. ‘Please,’ he all but begged, ‘send me away. Tell me you don’t want this.’

‘I can’t,’ she replied, closing her eyes against the sheer intensity of all that she wanted and all that she feared she would never have. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t hide from this any more. Opening her eyes, she looked deep into his gaze, saw the storm that threatened on the horizon and faced it. ‘Because I do want this.’

‘Then we’re both damned.’

He hailed the first cab that he could find and it drove them straight to his house.

The air was tension filled as they couldn't wait to have eachother.

The car stopped in front of Ian's house and he quickly paid the driver and they ran to his door like hormonal teenagers.

He claimed her lips immediately they got inside. With such possession for a moment she lost herself. She was his creature—one of pure sensation, responding only to his touch, his taste. The tongue taking her mouth teased her heart, the hands pulling her to him left fingerprints on her soul. And for the briefest moments she surrendered to it, luxuriating in the shocking intensity of his desire, before her own became too much to ignore.

Leaning into his kiss, her hands flew to his chest, fingers fisting the superfine cotton of his shirt and pulling him into her, deepening a kiss she’d already opened herself up to. She felt as much as heard the growl build from Ian raising the hairs at her nape not from fear of him, but fear that she might not be rid of this feeling, this sensual high that fizzed and popped and burst through her body. She wanted to call it madness, but beneath it, beneath the intoxicating fever of his touch, it was the sanest she’d felt since Hong Kong. Because while her heartbeat raged out of control, he soothed her soul.

‘Lisa.’ He said her name like a plea—as if he too had finally found that same sense of peace. But as he pulled away from her, she followed him, unwilling—unable—to break the connection. Her lips found his and he groaned into the kiss in a way that melted her body against him.

Rising to her tiptoes, she pressed herself to the length of his body, desperate to feel the steely outline of toned and taut male heat against her. Heat flashed over her from the evidence of his arousal, coalescing deep in her throbbing sex.

Despite the ferocity of his kiss, he was being gentle with her, his touches light, his hold careful and it only frustrated her, making her want more. Because she knew what it was like when Ian lost himself in his desire and that,that, was what had kept her heart racing when she’d known he was near,thatwas what had filled her dreams with such eroticism she’d ached when awake.That was what she wanted now.

Reluctantly she pulled back from the kiss, studying the scorching heat of his gaze—a heat wrapped in chains. He wanted this as much as she did but he was holding himself back. She could almost read the thoughts in his eyes, the warring conflict of should they, shouldn’t they.

The words she’d said to Ian that night in Hong Kong rose to her lips, a symmetry and irony to it that made her heart hurt a little.

‘Just tonight. Just now. But we will never speak of it. Ever.’

Before she’d even finished the sentence, Ian had closed the distance between them, crowding her body in the most delicious of ways.

‘lisa, what we do now, here? We will speak of it.’ The authority in his tone sent shivers of arousal across her skin, tightening her nipples, throbbing between her legs. ‘We will acknowledge it. It will not be ignored. Do you understand?’

The sting of his admonishment dissolved beneath a tide of need so acute, so powerful, she trembled. The pure possession in his gaze, his refusal to ignore this thing between them...it was everything she’d ever wanted.

‘Do you want this?’ he demanded, and she saw chains holding his desire back begin to snap beneath the heat of their mutual need. She knew what he was asking, knew that it was about more than this one moment, than this night...it was more than the question he’d asked only moments ago.

‘Yes. I do,’ she replied as he searched her gaze and she opened herself to him, hoping that he saw the truth of her words, of her heart. ‘But I want you. Not some careful, half touch. So I’m asking, do you want this?’

Surprise flared in the rich depths of his gaze. As if he’d thought he’d hidden his feelings better. And she was relieved when he didn’t simply dismiss her question, but considered it as seriously as she had. This was the line they would draw—before and after. She knew it as she knew her next breath. And it had to be crossed now or never.

‘Yes, I do,’ he replied, the last chain of his restraint breaking in his gaze.

Relief sagged through her, but she had no time to dwell on it because that touch that had been gentle was suddenly a brand against her skin. He gathered her in his arms, lifting her up against him. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his hips so as not to fall—not that she would have. The moment she was in his arms she felt safer than she could ever remember.

He kissed her as he walked them from the living room, the erotic play of his tongue against hers a promise of what was to come when they reached their destination. The arm braced beneath her thighs a tease of where she wanted him to touch her. Her breath caught in her lungs as his other hand wrapped around her hair and gently angled her head back to give him access to her neck as he pressed open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone and down between the v of her breasts, through the oyster satin of her shirt.

Her taut nipples punched at the silk and he covered them with the damp heat of his mouth. Her head fell back on its own, pleasure bursting through her as he reached the bed and laid her gently down on it.