Amber
Ian tasted sweet, almost dangerous in its addictiveness. His scent of ether and white sugar wrapped around me, dizzying and heady, making it impossible to think of anything else but him.
I whimpered softly, clinging to his shirt as he kissed me harder, deeper, like he couldn’t get enough.
Like he wanted to consume me whole.
And I wanted to be consumed.
I let him lead, let him dominate the kiss, and I followed without hesitation. His body was a wall of heat pressed against me, solid and real and safe.
He kissed me like I mattered. Like I wasn’t broken.
Like I was wanted.
My hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady pound of his heart under my fingertips, feeling the way he trembled slightly, holding himself back.
Ian pulled back just enough to breathe against my lips, his
