“Kiss me.” I swallow as the words tumble out of my mouth in a breathless whisper. “Please.”
I want to feel his lips on mine, to drown in this quiet intensity he possesses.
My new confidence falters slightly when he makes no move in response to my plea. I think that maybe I shouldn’t have allbut begged this man to kiss me, and I’m nearly pulling away from him, but then I feel his fingers flex as they grip me harder and pull me even closer.
And then his mouth descends on mine, and he takes my lips in a kiss that has every nerve ending in my body coming alive.
It’s not soft or slow. It’s a claim.
His hands move from my hips to my face, where he holds me and kisses me until I can’t breathe.
His tongue runs over the seam of my lips, and the moment I part my lips, he swallows down the thirsty whimper, sliding his tongue along mine.
I didn’t know kissing could be like this.
That it could have me throbbing between my legs or have my nipples hard, pressing against the front of my sweat-soaked shirt.
I didn’t know it could be so consuming.
His palm traces the curve of my jaw as he slides it to my nape, tangling his fingers in the strands of my hair.
The little bite of pain as he tugs me closer, controlling the kiss with his grip, has me nearly panting against his mouth. Angling my head, he deepens the kiss, and I feel…
I feel him hard against my stomach.
Oh God.
I want that.
I want him to kiss me like he is right now while moving inside me, his fingers digging into my hips as he uses my body.
I realize that probably sounds slightly unhinged for a girl who’s a virgin, and since this is only the first real kiss of my life, but I’m so tired of having my virginity, my virtue, hanging over my head when all I truly want is to feel the passion, and the intimacy, and the all-consuming ecstasy that comes with sex.
Tearing my lips away, I blink up at him, gathering all of this brazen, reckless energy coursing through me as I say, “I… I want you. Let’s go… somewhere.”
His brow lifts, and I roll my lips together before dragging my tongue along my bottom lip.
God, I can still taste him here.
We’re still smashed together in the middle of the bar, his fingers tangled in my hair as he holds me a breath away from his lips.
He lowers his mouth to my ear, his breath caressing the shell of it, causing me to shiver. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
Holy shit.
His voice is velvet, like if sex could be described as an adjective and not a noun. Deep and raspy, a gravelly baritone that you feel, not just hear.
Am I sure that I want this? Want him?
Yes. There’s not an ounce ofhesitation in the thought.
It doesn’t mean I’m not nervous or that I don’t have an insane amount of adrenaline coursing through me. But yes, God, this is the kind of choice thatIget to make, andno onegets to decide for me.
It feels like the most freedom I’ve ever known.
I nod. “Yes.”
My lips meet his, and he’s sucking my lip between his teeth, rolling it, biting, sliding his tongue back into my mouth. I can feel his hands everywhere, traveling down from my nape, across my back, curving around my ass, down to dip beneath it, the back of my thighs.
