LOUISE SMITH
This is madness, a big, stupid madness!
But here I am, being devoured by a man who knows exactly what he's doing.
Damn, and how good he is!
His tongue enters my mouth, teasing me, seeking passage wherever it goes. I surrender to the kiss, feeling his lips sliding over mine and his stubble gently grazing my chin.
The kiss is not urgent.
His hands, which were holding my chin, slide down my arms until they rest on my waist, where he squeezes firmly, making me sigh, while the wet kiss leaves me more and more excited.
What the hell!
I'm not supposed to be sighing like this, but I've lost count of how many times I've done it.
"Pyszne[1]..." he says in Polish, and I have no idea what it means, but I liked hearing it.
"I don't know what you said, but I liked it..."
He smile
