Coldness brushes over my lips. Softer than silk. Fluid and winter.
A tingling sensation races through my entire body. Static from the kiss dances along my nerve endings, reaching and lighting up every part of me.
The shadows cupping my face grow more solid. The lips sensually caressing my own, turn more defined. There is a hint of heat now. An echo of plump flesh.
He gently shifts the angle of my face. He kisses me more intensely. More thoroughly. A tongue slides into my mouth and I moan.
The kiss deepens. It heats. My toes are curling.
Fucking hell. I’ve never been kissed like this. Kisses always seem hurried. An appetiser. A hasty prelude to other things. Perfunctory to getting things started.
Hex isn’t kissing me like that at all.
He is kissing me as if it’s an act of worship. As if my lips are the prize, not the beginning.
His attentions are slow, thorough. As if he has all the time in the world and there is nothing he would rather be doing.
I make a truly pathetic noise. I fall into the sensations he is giving me. Surrender to them and let them carry me far away. It feels like rain after a drought and I need to drink him deeply.
His lips leave mine. He kisses the corner of my mouth. My jaw. Down to my neck. My head is tilted shamelessly back. My eyes are closed.
Oh my.
His lips are nuzzling my neck, but the rest of him feels like a mass of silken shadows. Brushing, twining, writhing all over me. Satin vines wrapped around my limbs and torso. Moving and twisting. A sea of caresses all under my clothes and against my naked skin.
It’s a lot.
It feels amazing.
My very hard cock is the only part of me that he isn’t touching, and it feels as if I’m not going to need him to touch me there for me to blow my load. Which is good since I’m pretty sure that’s what he is aiming for. I don’t think a kiss is going to sustain him. Not even this sexiest-kiss-in-the-history-of-the-world kiss.
And… and I guess I’m totally up for that. Very, very up for that. So if that makes me a twisted freak, well, hello new me.
My thoughts scatter as his very real-feeling tongue rasps over the delicate skin of my neck. I gasp and shudder. Fuck. I’m so close.
But there is a problem with that.
“I…um…” I stammer.
Hex pauses. All the writhing stops.
A handful of my brain cells begin to function again. My eyes open.
I’m leaning back. Hex’s shadows are warm against my back. Supporting me. Okay, holding me up while I swoon. I’m not ashamed to admit it.
I stare into red eyes floating in a dark mist.
Why am I not freaking out? I should be freaking out. Is it bad that I’m not freaking out? Am I so easy that once I’m horny, anything goes? Being groped by shadows is fine as long as it gets me there?
I swallow. “Um… can we take this to the bedroom? Standing in the middle of the kitchen and shooting my load feels… kinda unhygienic.”
A disembodied chuckle echoes around the room. I blink as Hex materialises fully. The glowing red eyes are now in a face. A ridiculously handsome face.
He sets me on my feet and my head spins for a moment. Then he holds out his arm in a gesture that looks like something straight out of Bridgerton. I suppose he is a prince, so it tracks.
Fumbling awkwardly, I take his offered arm. He grins like the Cheshire Cat and proceeds to escort me to my tiny bedroom as if he is taking me to a fancy ball.
Once we are in the room, he takes his arm back and steps back a couple of paces.
