Page 35 of Lovestrung

Oh, God, please don’t stop.

When his tongue pushed further, a violent shudder moved through me, making me clench my thighs to alleviate the building pressure between them. I sucked hard on it, and when he rewarded me with another long groan, I rubbed my hardened nipples against his chest.

I wanted to feel like this forever.

Wanted. Desired. Worshipped.

I wanted the taste of him to linger inside me for all eternity, for it was the most delicious taste I’d ever had.

He tasted like sunbeams and starbursts and a passion so out of this world, I feared I was dreaming. Because how was it possible for one kiss to render me more lovesick than ever? It wasn’t fair, but it was my reality – not a fairy tale.

And like all fairy tales, you have to wake up and come down on the firm ground instead of floating around on pink clouds.

I knew it in my head as well as in my heart, and when his kisses turned slower, more tender, I knew my moment was ending. I clung to his arms for as long as I could, basking in the sweetness of his full, wet lips as his mouth left mine to trail over my cheeks, my forehead, and my closed eyelids. Finally, his mouth stopped on my neck. His tongue swept over my heated skin, making it break out in goose bumps, until finally, the puffs of air against me – he was breathing as hard as me – reminded me to let reality set in once more. Of their own volition, my hands found their way into his hair, and I sighed at the silky touch of it against my skin.

“Pen,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and needy. “I think it’s best you leave now.”

I nodded against his neck, breathing in his scent.

But he didn’t let me go. His hands were still tangled in my hair.

“You—.” I cleared my throat and tried again. “You’re still holding me.”

I didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice.

“It’s hard to let go,” he admitted and placed a small kiss on my neck. “Harder than I thought it would be.”

I didn’t know what to say but waited for my heartbeat to slow down. The seconds ticked in the big grandfather clock in his room, and I counted them as I allowed myself to remain in his embrace for a full two minutes. As I stood there, I thought I felt his lips run up and down my neck, as if he couldn’t get enough of my skin, and that he tightened his hold around me the longer I stayed, but it couldn’t be true.

Ethan certainly hadn’t rejected me this time – in fact, his lips had seemed just as hungry for mine after the initial tenderness of his kiss – but that didn’t mean that he harbored any romantic feelings toward me. I wasn’t crazy enough to delude myself into believing that he’d turn into my very own Mr. Rochester or Mr. Darcy and declare how much he loved me.

Fairy tales in books were so much easier to believe.

I knew it would only become harder if I remained in his embrace, so as carefully as possible, I untangled my hands from his hair and took a step back. I knew what he meant when he said it was hard to let go. Every limb of my body felt as heavy as lead, reluctant to leave the passion I knew only he would ever be able to ignite inside of me, but he was right. It was best I left now.

While this had been the best kiss I’d ever had, it was over. I was leaving in three days, and I didn’t want him to get the idea that I was binding him to me in any way.

I wasn’t. I was telling him goodbye, and we both knew it.

“Goodbye, Ethan.” I kissed his neck and once I felt his hands leave my hair, I turned around and walked back to the door.

I was proud of myself for not looking back.

That didn’t stop me from feeling his eyes burning into my neck until I closed the door behind me.

Back in my own room, I changed into my pajamas, my thoughts a mess. But oh, what a lovely mess it was. I could still feel Ethan’s mouth on mine. I could still taste him.

I turned down the covers of my bed and closed my eyes.

I’d never forget his taste.

Never.

II

Ethan Collins

I stood at the airport, hidden from her view as she told her parents goodbye.