Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
His breaths are harsh and he’s kissing me.
I want to fly and I want to dance in a field with long stalks of grass because he’s kissing me. And then I want to make snow angels because holy God, he’s kissing me.
He’s kissing me. He’s kissing me.
He’s goddamn kissing me.
And I’m not going to kiss him back.
Nope.
That’s the thought I decide to focus on. Not the heat of his mouth. Not the taste. Not how wet it is and oh my God how fucking glorious this feels. How out of the world this feels. How relieving that it’s finally happening. That I won’t die, I won’t leave this earth without knowing heaven. Or that I could write a ten-minute song, an hour-long play, and a book of poetry based on the feel of his mouth alone, his taste, his heat and I don’t even like books.
No, my main focus is that I’m not going to kiss him back.
I know, I know I begged for this.
I begged on my knees for this. I beat on the ground. I punched the sky. I fucking lied and cheated and cajoled and cried to him for this kiss.
But that’s the thing.
He made me wait. He made me wait so, so long for this.
He hurt me so much.
So I’m just returning the favor.
I’m just going to stand here, locked within his embrace, frozen and unmoved.
Cold.
Colder than winter.
He can envelop my mouth into his all he wants—the very first thing he does when he puts his mouth on me—and he can suck on me like he’s sucking on a piece of fruit. I’m not going to budge. He can suck on me like I’m a peach from down south or a strawberry from up north. He can suck on me like I’m a slice of watermelon sprinkled with sugar. I’m not going to move my mouth against his.
Not even a little bit.
Not even when he frames my face exactly like he would hold a slice of watermelon to his mouth. He actually cradles my cheeks in his big hands and tilts my head back. He stretches the muscles and the tendons of my throat until I’m craned up all the way and oh God, the roughness of his hands, the calluses from probably picking up too many soccer balls in his life, feels so wonderful against my satin skin.
And that tongue.
Oh my God, he’s lapping at me with his tongue.
And he’s sucking on my bottom lip at the same time.
I mean, how can he do that?
How can he do both things at the same time and how is it that I’m feeling it not on my mouth but also in strange places of my body. Like my inner elbows and the back of my neck and holy shit, in my belly button. All the things he asked photos of.
And while I’m trying to figure out the mystery of why his kiss on my mouth also feels like a kiss on other places of my body, he’s hard at work up there. He’s kissing and kissing and worrying my mouth, making it all swollen and puffy. Making it all tingly and hot. All red too, I’m sure.
In the back of my mind, I think that maybe touching up my lipstick was a waste of time. Not only because he ate it all but also because if this is how he kisses, I probably won’t need any lipstick ever. He can just kiss me and make my lips look pouty and pink.
In fact, I don’t think I will ever need another stitch of makeup either.
Because I’m pretty sure he can be the blush on my cheeks and the shine in my eyes and make beauty marks on my body with his teeth.
Which is exactly what he’s doing right now.
After sucking on me like a piece of fruit, he’s nipping at my lips.
I also think, I think, he’s not only kissing me with his mouth. He’s also kissing me with his fingers.
He’s eating me with his fingers.
Not only is he rubbing his rough palms over my smooth cheeks, but when he knows I won’t move and will hold my stretched-out position, he moves those fingers of his into my hair. He tunnels them deep and fists the strands. He fists and unfists them. He twists the strands, tugs at them. As if he doesn’t know what to do so he’s doing everything all at once.
Not to mention, his body.
He’s kissing me with his body too.
His heaving chest that keeps pushing into mine. His moving ribs that keep dragging across my breasts that feel overfull and swollen. Just like back in that closet. My nipples feel plump and sore like he’s sucking on them instead of my mouth, but I shouldn’t be surprised because didn’t I already mention that I feel this kiss in every part of my body?