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“Always,” he proclaims as he slams his mouth down onto mine. This isn’t an experiment to see if we’re compatible, or if the attraction is mutual.
It’s a claiming.
A branding.
A declaration.
If he keeps kissing me like this, he’ll own me, heart, body, and soul.
His tongue swipes my bottom lip, begging to be allowed entrance. My libido sparks like a live wire inside of me, awakening the wanton woman within that I never knew existed. He’s ignited something inside of me, becoming my forbidden fruit.
My lips tingle, manifesting foreign feelings that I’m eager to explore. I open my mouth and allow him to dip his tongue inside, triggering my taboo desires. A moan reverberates from my throat, enticing him to go deeper, which he does. One of his arms wraps around my waist as the other grabs a hold of my hair in a tight grip, holding on to me like I’m his lifeline.
My arms lift of their own accord, anchoring me to him, hoping he’ll keep me from sinking and drowning. Earlier, my mind hadn’t wrapped around what he said in regard to tasting me, but now, I understand the meaning behind it. He’s like sunshine and whiskey wrapped in one glorious package that I want to unwrap one piece at a time.
Following his lead, I let my tongue battle his. Our breathing syncs, and our air becomes one shared atom. We blend into each other, becoming one person instead of two separate entities. Julius growls into my mouth, his grasp tightening, yanking me further into him.
When our breathing becomes erratic, he pulls back. His pupils are blown, the carnal hunger he has for me seducing me into a territory I’m unfamiliar with but want to embrace.
As if he reads my mind, he simply says, “Later, siren.”
“Yeah, later, Julius.”
“See you tomorrow, Shayne.”
“Tomorrow’s good,” I reply, clamping my lips when I realize how foolish I sound.
“’Night, temptress.”
Temptress? Me?
“’Night… uh, Julius.”
* * *
Sleep eludes me as I toss and turn, my legs becoming slick with passion, arousal, and wishful longing. My inexperience doesn’t answer the many questions of my whys and hows.
Why do I feel this way?
If it’s frowned upon, why and how does it feel right?
Are my beliefs jaded due to the severity of lectures we received?
How could something that’s looked upon as a misdeed and malfeasance ignite my entire being the way it did when his lips were attached to mine?
None of it makes any sense.
Determining I’m not going to figure anything out on my own, I proceed to shut my mind off, count sheep after sheep, until, finally, my eyelids grow heavy and I give in to my droopy eyes and sudden drowsiness.
Julius
When I wakethe next morning from my blaring alarm, my alcohol-clouded brain recalls the stupidity of my actions last evening. How could I have been so stupid and allowed myself to give in to my wants the way I did?
She’s never been kissed for fuck’s sake and I took advantage of her. She’s in a new environment. Her world’s been flipped, and I go charging in there like a caveman and take something from her that wasn’t mine to take.
“Dammit. How can she trust me if I lose her respect the same evening I asked for her reliance on a man she’d just met for the first time?” I berate myself, hating the fact that even if it was the wrong thing for me to do, I want to say fuck it and do it again, and again.
Every. Damn. Day.
