Then they were colliding. No finesse, just raw need as he smashed his lips to hers. The kiss an explosion of feeling rather than the chaste meeting of lips she'd experienced in the past.
There was joy and happiness in that kiss, but also bone-deep need and desire. She never felt anything like it. Tongues warred, teeth scraped, lips clung, and through it all he repeated her name like a mantra. Her name, not Dimples, she smiled against his mouth.
"Krissy," he moaned, sliding his hands down her back, over the curve of her ass, squeezing her.
"Krissy," again he said it as he dominated their kiss, growling with the force of his desire.
"Yes," she moaned back, tilting her head to give him access to her neck and throat.
"Krissy, sweet Krissy," he breathed her name, tasting her as he stroked
