22 - Forgiven Yet?

22 - Forgiven Yet?

James

Her lips. Fuck. Her lips. I breathed and kissed her again and yes… there it was again. Her lips tasted like the summer rain. Soft little showers that made the scorching sun bearable in the hot season of May. Her lips were as soft as the wet dew and as addictive as the smell of wet earth.

I wanted to devour her, yet keep her in my arms all the time.

It was maddening.

“Your lips,” I groaned, biting her bottom lip until I elicited a satisfying whimper from her, clutching her little fingers on my shirt. “I fucking love how you taste, Princess.”

She moaned when I pressed her against the desk, claiming her in a passionate kiss once more. I was eager to spread her out and sample her other set of lips. I grunted, pinning my hips against her, making her aware of how much she affected me.

“James,” Mia whimpered, arching her back and curling her fingers on the back of my nape. It felt so good. I had forgotten how good it felt.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be en