Chapter Six
The moment her lips touch mine, I’m lost. To myself, to her, to any memory of what is right or true or necessary.
Ecstasy. That’s what it’s called when saints experience spiritual euphoria, and I’m no saint, that’s for f*****g sure, but this…this is ecstasy. The small whimper she makes when I slide my hand to the small of her back and jerk our bodies close together. The hesitant flicker of her tongue against my lips. The clean, sweet taste of her, the rose smell of her skin, the satin submission of her soft mouth under mine.
The trusting way her hands lace and hang around my neck.
And the tiny noise she lets out as I make her mouth fully mine—her tongue, her teeth, her lips—I hold nothing back. I turn so she’s the one backed against the stove, and I cage her in everyw
