31
Sara
I don’t know why, but I never expected him to kiss me, to place his mouth on mine and feast on me as though he’s starving. Because that’s what it feels like: as if he’s consuming me, taking in my essence, my very being. His lips and tongue ravage my mouth, devouring me, taking the air right out of my lungs. His free hand burrows into my hair, holding me still for the voracious kiss, and it’s all I can do not to melt into the sheets. Because he doesn’t just take; he gives. He gives so much pleasure I’m overwhelmed by it, overtaken by his taste and scent and feel.
He kisses me until I’m flushed and burning, until I can barely recall what it felt like not to kiss him, not to inhale his warm, minty breath. Until all thoughts of who and what we are are gone, and I’m arching against h
