But I don’t need air.
All I need is him.
He doesn’t seem to care that I’m inexperienced.
Or that this is the beginning of the end because he can feel this spark too.I know that he can by the tremble of his fingers as he brushes the hair from my cheeks.And by the way he doesn’t just kiss, he consumes my very soul.
He guides me with his mouth and tongue.Slow at first, allowing me to familiarize myself with his lips.
He’s hot and wet, a heady combination.
Hard, but soft.
Dominant, but kind.
It’s sensory overload, almost too much as I try to experience everything all at once, not wanting to forget a single thing.
I feel helpless, but powerful in his arms.It’s something I can’t explain.By surrendering, I’ve never felt more alive.
Our mouths move in unison, and when he slips his tongue in and circles mine slowly, a soft moan escapes me.
Pressing into him, I crave his heat.He tangles his fingers in my hair and uses it as reins while controlling the angle and ferocity of the kiss.
I like that he’s in control.
I don’t feel scared.
The memories of that night in the woods are hazy.It might be because my face was hidden, or maybe my mind decided to forget as a way to protect itself.All I can really remember is the pain.The pain sparks this deep-rooted anger and the need for revenge.
But being this way with Kit, the anger subsides, and it feels as if tenderness prevails.
With our lips still locked, he walks me backward until my back hits the wall.I feel every hardened inch of his body as he presses into me, holding me prisoner.
But I come willingly.
I stand on my tippy-toes, but he still towers over me.
I like it.
I feel safe and protected.
But what happens if this grows into something more?What happens when he uncovers who I really am?
Kit’s lips are soft against mine, but there’s a hunger in his kisses.It feels as though he knows I’m holding back and getting caught up in my thoughts.
“Hey,” he whispers against my lips, brushing his thumb along my jaw.His touch grounds me to this moment, and this moment only.“It’s only us.”
He senses the shadows dancing around in my head, yet he doesn’t run away.
Instead, he deepens the kiss.
Slow at first, ensuring I’m okay.When I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, the kiss grows with urgency, and soon, it feels as if we both want to eat the other alive.I cling tighter, afraid this is all a dream and he will drift away.
The pain subsides, and all that matters is this moment.This is a new memory that saddles itself to the past, and I hope that maybe one day it will be the one that triumphs over pain.
Kit makes me feel safe, desired, and most of all…he makes me feel alive.And to someone who is dead inside, this feels nothing short of a miracle.
A heat builds inside me, and before long, I feel myself growing wet.
