Aysel: The Night Is Young

Within one moment and the next, I find myself pinned to the tree where he had earlier cornered me. My hands grab fistfuls of his jacket while his arms tighten around my waist. The kiss turns heady, wild, and downright messy as he slips his tongue into my mouth. A noise comes out of my mouth. It’s embarrassing. I am much more in control during make-out sessions, however, this feels… different. He sweeps his tongue across my lower lip and one of his hands travels down my waist and slips under the dress.

His rough, calloused palm leaves goosebumps on my damp skin. This is not his rut doing its job, he isn’t under that spell. This time he is in control and yet. His hand gropes my left cheek. I can feel his interest against my hip. Despite the rough bark and the fear of being caught by someone, I press closer, hooking my ankle around his leg. The wetness between my legs makes its sticky presence known. Amaia whines in my head, whether from pleasure or simply mourning my lack of judgment I