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A probably-stupid, possibly-would-regret-later, thing.
I slid my tongue along the seam of his lips, and when they parted, plunged it into his mouth.
A groan escaped him, and he dragged me closer.
Tighter.
And shit, I was right about him tasting good. He was better than good—way, way better than good. Not like candy, or ice cream, but like fresh water on a hot day, like rain in the desert.
Like mutual attraction, after constant rejection.
One of his hands slid into one of my curly puffs and I didn’t even care, because he felt and tasted so good.
And when the other hand dragged me closer, my legs wrapped around his hips.
My back hit a tree, and he pressed me against the smooth bark.
I kept kissing him, our tongues and lips dancing and fighting and enjoying the hell out of each other.
Remmo had definitely figured out how kissing worked.
Definitely.
His erection ground against me as his hips jerked, and I just rocked against him harder, encouraging him.
And when he snarled into my mouth, soaking both of our pelvises with his release…
I just.
Kept.
Kissing him.
Eventually, I was going to have to stop.
But hot damn… not soon.
Not.
Soon.
Except then, I heard a crash in the forest.
And afurioussnarl.
My head jerked backward, smashing against the tree, and I winced. My lips were so damn swollen, it was glorious.
And my eyes locked with Remmo’s bright green ones.
“We have to go, now,” the man whispered against my mouth.
I jerked my head in a nod.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I snorted softly. “No.”
His lips curved upward, just slightly. “Well, try.”
