“Alex…” He breathes against my mouth, and for heaven’s sake—even his breath is beautiful.
The keycard slips from my fingers, landing on the floor right beside my morals.
“I want to dance with you,” I whisper, and his lips tremble.
God, I’m obsessed with them—how they move, how they hesitate, how they feel like a secret waiting to be told.
“I can’t kiss you, Noah.” I breathe against him, but my lips deceive me and fall to his neck, where I suck on his tender flesh and hear him gasp softly, his breath barely touching the air.
“I can’t kiss you,” I mumble against his dewy skin, licking sweat from the side of his neck and sucking a bruise underneath his earlobe.
“Oooooo…” he moans, the vibration setting my lips on fire.
“I can’t kiss you.” I mouth into his smooth skin, trailing soft kisses across his shivering jawline, lingering near those forbidden lips.
“Alex,”he hisses, dropping his head back, granting me full access to his slender throat.
I sweep my tongue over his Adam’s apple, triggering it to bob and fall against my lower lip. I suck the small curve of his throat between my lips and lick a wet path back up to his chin, savoring the salty taste of his skin.
My eyes fall back to his mouth.
And then… I kiss him.
Softly at first, allowing my lips to glide like a whisper across the corners of his mouth. He exhales as I pull away, warm breath hovering over my lips like a pocket of air. It’s enough to make me lose my fucking mind.
I wish I could name what’s happening—why I’m so goddamn obsessed with this beautiful boy. If there’s something to figure out, I’m circling it without seeing it, lost in the ache of wanting him and wanting to protect him all at once. Maybe he needs shelter, and I’m giving him heat instead.
Hungrily, I part my lips and devour every single one of his breathy pants and airy gasps. His hooded eyes are pretty, lips puckered and plush. I slide my hands up to his face and cup his cheeks in my palms.
“Keep kissing me, angel.” I breathe across those forbidden lips, forgetting every fucking thing in my life, including my sanity.
His eyes sparkle with newly shed tears, and just when I think he’s about to pull away, his tender lips fall across mine, and he kisses me softly.
Softer than any secret ever whispered into my ear.
I close my eyes. “Noah…”
His kiss is delicate, lips spongy and wet. They move leisurely against my mouth, as if committing my lips to memory and savoring their tabooed feel.
I give him a minute to dance around our desire, and then crush my mouth into his, devouring those precious lips, starving for a taste of his tongue, saliva, and tonsils.
His tears puddle between our lips, and he shivers as I run my tongue through every corner of his mouth, slicing his words into choppy moans.
“Oh g-god. O-h-h m-my g-g…oohhmmmyesss…”
My pretty dancer.
I lift him into my arms, heart thudding with every step toward the bed. He feels warm, trusting, too trusting—and it wrecks me. In ways I can’t even comprehend. Because I don’t know if he’s reaching for comfort or trying to rewrite something that already broke him. It just feels… different.
I lay him down gently, like I’m setting down something I was never meant to hold.
“Tell me to stop, Noah. Tell me to stop. Please.”
He kisses me again, clinging to my mouth like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered, dragging me over his body like a blanket—warm and necessary.
It’s so foreign to me. This urgency. This need to keep him close. It’s nothing like Elijah?—
Oh my god!
