“Silas,” she whispers.
“Yeah, Cupcake?”
“Are you ever gonna kiss me again?” She runs her fingers up my neck and onto my cropped hair.
“You want me to kiss you?” I take one of my hands from her waist and cup her jaw.
“Yes,” she admits breathily.
“I’ll kiss you again when you admit that no one kisses you like I do.” I lower my head toward her mouth.
“Well, my experience is limited …” she teases.
“Is that right?” I know she hasn’t had many boyfriends, but I have no idea how many guys she’s kissed, and the thought of her kissing anyone but me pisses me off.
She leans in closer, eyes on my mouth. “No one kisses me like you do.”
The words barely leave her before I drop my mouth to hers.
When she sighs against my lips, I deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue into her mouth. No rush, just certain that this is exactly what we should be doing. My thumb on my other hand is absentmindedly tracing circles on her hip, making her melt into me. She rises up on her toes and holds my head in place, like she’s afraid I’ll pull away too soon. Not a fucking chance.
She tastes sweet, like the pink champagne, and I can’t get enough.
When she moans, I kiss her so deep, hungry. The kind of kiss that steals your breath.
Then she matches my rhythm, like my kisses are only meant for her. Making me feel like my control is slipping.
My hand falls from her face, and I slide both hands under her ass and lift her so her pussy is cradling my dick, which is straining painfully against my zipper. When she rolls her hips against me, it’s my turn to groan, breaking our kiss.
“You’re gonna kill me, Cupcake.” I rest my forehead against hers.
“I don’t want to kill you. I want to kiss you.” She says it so softly that I’m not sure I heard her correctly.
“I don’t want to keep going when I can’t finish what we’re starting up here.” I brush my nose against hers.
“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” Her hands cup my face. “Will you dance with me?”
I kiss her lightly on the lips and lower her enough so her feet touch the ground. “I would love to.”
She keeps her arms around my neck, and we sway to ElvisPresley singing “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” which is honestly just too fucking coincidental. I’m head over ass falling for this girl.
I tip her chin with my finger and kiss her soft and slow this time. I want her to feel the sincerity in my kiss.
We’re so lost in each other that it barely registers that we’ve stopped moving until the song changes to one about a sports car.
I pull away just enough that our lips are still brushing. “I think our ride is over.”
“Okay,” she says, running her hands from my head down to my neck.
“What do you want to do next? Are you hungry?” I trail my fingers up and down her back. “We’re in Vegas, so whatever your inner desires are, this is the place to do it.”
She looks out the window, and I follow her gaze to see the newlyweds walking down the ramp to the exit.
“I have an idea.”
“Lay it on me.” I bend my head to kiss her neck.
“Let’s get married.”
