It’s a hundred timesbetterthan I could have imagined.
19
XANDER
Shut up and kiss me.
Words I’ve dreamed of hearing.
Words I’ve played around my mind almost every time I’ve glimpsed Snow around my apartment, waiting for the day that she gets the all clear.
Today is that day.
Her lips slot perfectly against mine, soft and warm with a hint of fruitiness from whatever lip balm she swiped on this morning.
Breathing in, my senses are overwhelmed by the soft, clean floral scent that rises from her and every nerve across my body leaps as she pushes herself against me.
Her fingertips flex against my cheeks, then one slides past my ear and into my hair where she grips on.
The sudden short, subtle ache that forms from her pull sends an excited thrill down my spine, and my shoulders tremble as I tighten my arms around her waist.
Her head tilts to one side and I follow, mirroring her movements to continue the kiss even as her lips part to breathe easier.
I don’t grant her that.
My tongue slides over the swell of her lower lip and then past the seam of her lips when her mouth opens.
Soft noises of surprise rise from her and she shivers in my arms.
Every inch of her stands out against my body, even through my clothes.
She overbalances from spending too long on her tiptoes to kiss me, but my support around her waist prevents her from toppling.
As my tongue slides along hers, dancing and rolling in the heat of her mouth, my core tightens and interest stirs in my cock.
Distantly, I’m sure I’m supposed to be somewhere.
I was going somewhere.
I can’t remember.
Everything is now about Snow.
Sliding my hand up her back, my palm settles between her shoulders and I press her closer, kissing her deeper until her entire body rolls against mine.
Then she uses her grip on my hair to drag my head back.
“Fuck,” she gasps, panting harshly. In the low light drifting in from the half-covered window, her lips glint from saliva and her eyes sparkle as she gazes up at me. “I—” She shakes her head suddenly. “Fuck, I don’t want to talk.”
Before I can blink, she’s grasping my shirt and ripping it wide open with a clatter of buttons scattering to the floor.
I flinch faintly, almost uncertain of her touch when both her hands press flat against my abdomen, but the warmth from her touch soothes me instantly.
She uses that touch to balance herself, and our lips collide briefly once more.
“Please,” Snow gasps, sliding one hand up to my chest. “Please.”
“Please what?” I cradle the back of her head with one hand and lean forward, sliding my other hand down to her lower back so she’s forced to bend backward as I move.
