22

Veronica

I gasped, but he swallowed the sound, his hand at the back of my skull holding me in place as his lips moved over mine, slow and soft, tasting me. When his tongue probed, I opened, and he slid inside. I tilted my head, and he pressed against me. When he did, I felt him, his hardness, at my belly.

I would have stopped the kiss.

I did.

But he held me and reclaimed my mouth, and this time, urgency replaced the gentler exploration of moments ago. His kiss was hungry, ravenous almost, and his desire only seemed to wake the same inside me. I raised my hand and laid it against his arm, liking the feel of hard muscle there. Feeling somehow safe for it. My body eased, relaxing into him, and my eyelids fluttered closed.

But then he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

His breath came heavy. His hands moved to my hips, holding me.

"I'm fucked up right now," he said. "You need to go upstairs."

I raised my head to look at his face, into his eyes. They told so much he didn'