I kiss Millie Delacroix like it’s my job. Like she is my Daily Three. Millie. Millie. And Millie.
Her mouth opens under mine, and the only thing sweeter than this sweetest of welcomes is the feel of her hands. One still clutching my wrist behind her. The other gripping tight to my hair just above my nape, pulling me closer.
Telling me I’m not the only one.
She. Wants. This. Too.
My tongue sweeps over hers, and she rises up on her toes, making a little squeak. Of effort? Of urgency? What other noises does she make? I want to know. I want to learn her language. I tilt my head, bite her lower lip, and suck it into my mouth. She gasps, a sound that fires straight to my balls. When I release the sweet flesh, she bites and sucks mine in return, and I’m the one making noises.
“Sagrado...”
We inhabit a new world. Nothing from the old one remains. Not the laws of physics. Not gravity. Not even the rotation of the earth. And long gone is the rule of not touching Millie.
I will touch her morning, noon, and night,I promise myself, the first decree of this new world.
I will make sure she laughs every day.This isn’t just a promise; it’s a constitution. What could be a more perfect union?
My lips seal over hers again, and when her tongue pushes into my mouth, eager and seeking, my first impulse is to drag us both to the floor, but somewhere in the attic of my brain, there’s a dusty cardboard box that holds a reason for why this isn’t a good idea. I don’t open the box. I don’t even climb the stairs to the attic. I just nurse her tongue in my mouth and lead her like we’re dancing, moving her back until we smack against the wall.
Ah, that’s it.Her kitchen. Her home. Her family. They’re all here. That’s why I can’t take her on the floor this minute.
I will lay her down where we can be alone.
But for now, I just want to taste her and hold her as long as I can. Feel her pressing, clasping, claiming me. Millie is kissingme.How long has she wanted this? I would have given it the first day I laid eyes on her. Whatever she wants, she can have.
I will give her anything she wants.
But time is against us. A light has flicked on in that attic. Any minute now, one of the kids will come searching for her. Wanting food. Needing help. Asking for a ride to a friend’s. I’ve heard it every day.
I will answer.
I will help shoulder her load.
Adding more decrees, building this world from the ground up, I break the seal of our mouths to kiss her jaw, the hollow beneath her ear, down her neck. Millie tastes like salt and summertime. Like sea breeze and ambrosia salad.
And there’s not enough time. Not nearly enough.
I will make time for her.
Unable to get enough, I keep kissing her neck. Her lips graze my ear, and the sound of gasp drives me mad.
“Oh God,” she whispers.
Yes, she’s right,I think.I will praise God for this.
“Oh God. What am I doing?”
I freeze.
And then she’s panting, pulling away. At first, I hold on. She’s afraid. I don’t know everything about her, but I know she’s afraid. Something like this scares her. I just have to reassure her.
“I’m sorry,” she says, looking down. “I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, grinning. “We both want this.”
Her gaze jumps to mine then, her eyes wide and stark. “I don’t want this.” She pulls back harder, and this time I let her go.
“Millie—”
