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I’m kissing a fucking prince.
But not only that, I’m kissing a guy. A beautiful guy I like and who, it seems, likes me.
Don’t freak out, Hailey. Don’t overthink it just because this might be the most gorgeous man who’s ever laid his lips on you. Not might be. Is. He’s privileged and arrogant, and …wow, so much fun.
Fun. Remember when life was fun?
You deserve this.
He might be a terrible driver and a snob about sweet tea.
Sweet tea can kick rocks.
Our kissing is sweeter than all the tea in the Southern United States.
My thoughts race as Torben switches the slant of his face, his hand angling my head to take my mouth as he wishes. His soft, firm lips do vicious things to my nethers.
He and I shouldn’t work this well, kissing while standing. But he’s such a gentleman; he makes it seem effortless, craning down to kiss me. Angling this way and that, sweeping, tasting, caressing. His lips are just as luscious as I’d thought. Even luscious-er. Is that a word? It should be.
The Favored Prince. I understand that now. This kiss is my favorite of all kisses. No, it’s my favorite thing of all things.
Slowly, deliberately, the prince sweeps his tongue over the seam of my mouth.
I softly gasp, letting my hands travel up to caress his neck, but I do not open my mouth to his teasing tongue. Not yet.
A quiet groan rumbles deep in his chest at the touch of my fingers on his nape.
All the while, Torben gives slow, wet kisses to my lips. Delicious, soft kisses. Demanding, insistent kisses. Not quite urging my mouth open, but definitely promising wonderful things once I do.
Finally, I surrender, opening my mouth to him, and accepting his tongue.
And I’m lost in a world comprised of nothing but us. His breath is my atmosphere. His tongue is the waves of my ocean.
I know better than to get lost in the embrace of a man, especially a man I met hours ago. But there is something so tender and sweet as he licks into me, his hands clutching me close. Every sweep of lips, every touch of our tongues, every curl of his fingers on the small of my back amplifies the pure thrill of this moment.
His breath is ragged when he draws us apart.
“Hailey.”
“Torben.”
He smiles, though it quickly fades into a look of intense wonder. “I’ve never…that was…”
“Good,” I fill in for him. “That was a good kiss.”
He nods. “I…would like to do more of that.”
Who wouldn’t?
“I would like to do more of that, too.”
His shoulders loosen, and now both of his hands nest in my hair. Oh god, my topknot must be a mess.
“I would like to touch your hair. Is that too presumptuous?”
“Too presumptuous to touch my hair after you had your tongue in my mouth? No,” I say.
Why do I get the feeling he might be slightly less experienced than his kiss would indicate?
