He grins, the gesture plastered with surrender. I am his losing battle. Always have and always will be.
Eyes locked, the hunger burning in his eyes reveals something else too. He wants me just as much.
As the knowledge floors my heartbeat, he slams his mouth on mine, crushing my lips with a soft yet firm kiss. He might as well suck the soul from me and possess me. Nibbling along my lips, his tongue delves into my mouth, ravishing me.
The kiss is everything I’ve dreamed of, and so much better than I imagined it could be.
My fantasy is nothing compared to his slow but eager exploration of my mouth, licking each nook and cranny. He kisses me as if he wants to map my mouth to trace his territory. Possessive. Wild. Sweet.
A moan tumbles out of my mouth that he snatches as his. A cacophony of sensations blares through me, causing an uproar in my belly that flutters like crazy. He plays with my senses with such dexterity that I create music for him. What a glorious experience being devoured by him.
The groan vibrating in his chest travels through me, echoing like a war drum. He’s not just kissing me, but conquering his prize. The sounds I make are half moans, half whimpers. It’s not butterflies but hummingbirds beating their wings against my ribcage.
The kiss steals the breath from my lungs. I’d forsake breathing if he never stopped kissing me. He feeds me a different type of oxygen, one that is more elementary to my existence. He nips my bottom lip, sucking on the afflicted skin, and traces his tongue over the contour of my mouth.
I lock my arms around his neck, wanting to meld us together—become one so I never have to live without him again. As if he wishes the same, his other palm digs into my thigh before splaying over my ass in a sign of possession. I smile in his mouth, knowing his hand always ends up there.
We come up for air just for a moment before diving back in sheer euphoria that brightens up my insides. I forget the worldaround me. I am pure sensation. Passion stirs low in my belly, causing a ravenous hunger.
He groans in my mouth as if not getting enough of me, and I thread my fingers through his hair, wanting to hold on to him, so he never stops kissing me. I am feverish. With each swipe of his tongue, I need more, craving everything he can offer me. I am high on him—the cause of my addiction, and the only cure to satisfy my desire for another fix.
Every time I think the kiss can’t get better, he proves me wrong, subduing and seducing me with his skilled mouth and wicked tongue. His hand keeps me firmly in place while I get increasingly desperate for more.
Now that I know how fantastically he can kiss, how marvelous we are together, it only adds gasoline to a fire that has always flickered between us. It can burn us, but I don’t care. I kiss him with the same ardor, wanting to pour every bit of my undying love and throbbing passion into it so he can feel a smidgeon of what he does to me.
He holds onto me as if never letting me go. He might as well press me to the shape of his body, giving me the impression he shares my desire—it’s the same for him.
His desperation matches mine in every nibble, lick and kiss—insatiable as if making up for years of pent-up desire. From him groaning my name in my mouth and squeezing my ass cheek, his fervor is all-encompassing. He’s hard between my legs, and my clit throbs in response.
I feel him in me. I am him. He’s me. Separate but whole. Empty apart, but full together.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he says, sounding almost pained. He rasps. “What are you doing to me? I don’t want to stop. Can’t stop.”
“Don’t stop. Never stop,” I plead, going in for another intoxicating taste, another fiery kiss that makes my core vibrate with a surge of pure ecstasy.
By the time the kiss ends, I am so breathless and lightheaded that I could levitate at any moment.
This was the kind of kiss where he might as well have lit a billboard with his name inside my chest.
Lowering his forehead to mine, we breathe each other in for long minutes, as if we both need a few moments to recover from the intense experience.
My first kiss.
12
MIKAIL
My first kiss. It revived as it ruined me. For good.
There’s no cure for the madness she planted inside of me. There’s no stopping the craving. There’s no overcoming the addiction.
Nothing tastes better than her sweet mouth, altering my brain chemistry. I couldn’t pick a favorite between her mouth and pussy. Both feed me life.
I smile against her swollen lips, feeling oddly at peace for someone who is utterly screwed.
A memory flashes before my eyes. She just turned eight and made me promise to keep something of mine just for her. I thought it was my heart, but subconsciously, I never wanted to kiss anyone else.
“I’ve never seen you smiling like this,” she says, sounding awed just like I am.
