I craved her

Kian

Having Mallory Lynch in my lap felt like a dream.

What do you mean I have this gorgeous blonde in my lap, craving my lips on her own. On her skin.

I placed kisses on her neck, slowly trailing down to her collarbone, my hands wandering under her shirt.

I couldn't stop myself. Her breath came in soft, quick bursts as we lingered, our faces close but not touching. There was a fire in her eyes now, a desire that mirrored my own, something I hadn't expected from her. Something real. The way she moved in my lap—hesitant, yet confident at the same time—only made it harder for me to think straight.

Her hands were resting on my chest, fingers splayed out as though testing the rhythm of my heartbeat. I could feel her body pressed against mine, and every small shift she made sent heat surging through me. Every inch of space between us felt like it was about to be consumed by the overwhelming need to be closer, to touch her more.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, voice thick with the tension between us. My hands had found their way to her back, holding her there but not pushing any further. Not yet. I needed to know she wanted this too.

Mallory's eyes fluttered for a moment before she looked up at me, her lips curling into a shy, teasing smile. It was as if she knew what was going through my mind and was testing me—waiting for me to make the next move.

"I'm sure," she whispered, her voice a little breathless, but she didn't pull away. If anything, she drew a little closer.

I didn't need any more encouragement. My hands slid around her waist, pulling her even closer, her legs wrapped snugly around mine. The moment our lips met again, it was like a switch had been flipped. The kiss was different this time—less uncertain, more desperate, as if we both needed this, needed each other.

I couldn't get enough of her. My fingers traced the outline of her jaw, skimming the side of her neck, feeling the soft pulse of her heartbeat. She let out a quiet gasp when I deepened the kiss, and I felt her body tense for just a moment before she relaxed again, sinking into me.

Everything about the way she responded to me felt electric. There were no games, no hesitations. Just pure connection. Her hands moved up to the back of my neck, her fingers threading into my hair, pulling me even closer as she kissed me harder. Every kiss, every touch sent a rush of adrenaline through me, until the only thing that existed was the feel of her in my arms.

We eventually pulled away, both of us breathing heavily. The quiet hum of the field, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the distant sounds of the party—everything seemed so far away now.

Mallory rested her forehead against mine, eyes closed for a moment, as though she was trying to gather herself. I couldn't help but smile at her, my fingers gently caressing her cheek.

"Lynch," I murmured, my voice low. "Are you sure you're okay with all of this?"

She opened her eyes, looking at me with a seriousness that softened my chest. She nodded slowly.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," she replied, her voice steady, but there was something deeper in her gaze now. Something that told me she wasn't just in this for the moment, but because she really wanted to be.

It was in that moment I realized something—something I hadn't wanted to admit, something that scared the hell out of me.

I didn't just want Mallory in the moment. I wanted her in a way that went beyond the fleeting satisfaction of a kiss. I wanted her in ways I wasn't sure I was ready to admit, but it was already too late to take back.

She wasn't just some girl to pass the time with. She was different.

And I didn't want to lose that.

I couldn't tear my gaze away from Mallory as she leaned back slightly, eyes soft but intense. I felt something shift between us, something more than just the heat of the kiss or the stolen moments we'd shared. There was a quiet understanding now, like we both knew things had changed.

Her fingers brushed through my hair, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself feel something. Something real. For so long, I had been numb—just trying to survive, trying to keep my head above water with everything going on at home. But with her, everything was different.

She shifted, turning to face me more fully, her legs still draped over mine, her body pressed close to mine. Her breath came in quiet bursts, like she was trying to get a hold of herself too.

I wanted to say something—anything—that made sense, but words felt pointless. There was nothing I could say that would capture how much this moment meant, how much she meant. So, I just held her, my hands resting lightly on her hips as I let myself feel the weight of the connection between us.

"You make it hard to think straight, you know that?" I said, my voice low, and I could see the faintest smirk tug at her lips. She lifted an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"Well, maybe you just need to learn to stop thinking," she teased softly, and I couldn't help but laugh. It felt good, to laugh, to be light for once.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," I replied, my hand gently brushing against her side, making her shiver slightly under my touch. "But I don't think I'm ready to stop just yet."

She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes now. "You think too much."

"I know," I admitted, my lips curving into a smile. "It's a bad habit."

For a moment, we just sat there, the silence comfortable, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a calmness I hadn't even known I was missing. Mallory felt right here, in my arms, and everything else—the mess at home, the people who tried to control me, the stuff I'd been running from—seemed so distant. Almost like it didn't matter in this moment.

Her hand slid down to my chest, and she looked at me with a slight frown, as though something was on her mind. I waited, watching her carefully, wondering if she was second-guessing everything.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice almost a whisper, but there was a quiet concern in her eyes. "You don't have to act like everything's fine if it's not, Kian."

I didn't know how to answer that. How could I tell her about everything without pushing her away? How could I explain that I felt like I was falling for her, but I was drowning on the inside, suffocating under the weight of my own life?

Instead, I just shook my head, forcing a smile, though it didn't reach my eyes. "I'm fine. Just... don't worry about me, alright?"

She didn't seem convinced, but she nodded anyway. "Okay. Just know that I'm here if you need to talk."

And for a moment, I believed her. In a world that didn't make much sense, with people who weren't always reliable, Mallory felt like something solid, something I could lean on. It terrified me, but it also felt like a lifeline I didn't want to let go of.

She shifted slightly, leaning in again, her lips brushing against my jaw. "You don't have to pretend with me, Kian," she whispered, her voice warm against my skin. "Not anymore."

I didn't know what to say to that, but as I pulled her close, my hands finding their way to her back, all I could think was that maybe, for once, I didn't have to pretend. Maybe, just maybe, Mallory Lynch was exactly what I needed to make it through all the shit that was coming my way.

And when her lips met mine again, it was like everything else disappeared.

Maybe for the first time, I didn't mind being lost.

My hands went back under her shirt, pulling away and giving her look as to ask if I could take it off.

She shyly nodded, letting me do what I wanted.

Now with her sat in just her bra and skirt, I trailed kisses down her collarbone, kissing the top of her breast just above the edge of her bra.

"Is this okay?"

I got a soft hum in response as her hands tangled in my hair.

I pulled her bra own slightly, leaving soft wet kisses down her chest.

"God Mallory.." I mumbled, my mouth still on her.

"Do you want me, Mal?

No reply

"Mallory..I asked you a question baby."

I moved my lips away from her chest, cupping her face in my hands, "answer me sweetheart."

Her name rolled off my tongue, and something about the way I said it felt different—more intimate, more urgent. I felt her stiffen slightly in my arms, like she wasn't sure how to respond. But the hesitation didn't last long.

Her eyes met mine, and I could see the conflict in them, the uncertainty and the confusion that mirrored my own. She had every right to be unsure, to be cautious. We were both walking on a fine line, and I could tell she was aware of it.

"You're asking a lot of questions tonight, Kian," she said softly, her voice light but there was a hint of something deeper in her tone.

I smirked, though it didn't fully reach my eyes. I wasn't trying to play games, but something about the way she kept pulling away, not quite letting me in, was driving me crazy.

"I need to know, Mallory. I need to know if you want me," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. I didn't want to sound desperate, but the truth was, I was feeling all kinds of things I didn't know how to process.

"Yeah I do." She answered, leaning in closer to kiss me again.