His Appointed Wife

9. Lips, cold showers and rock stars

I kiss you and it is not just a kiss. It is like nothing I have ever experienced in all of my 27 years. Maybe it is really special, because it is you. - Logan.
~

~~

9. Lips, Cold showers and rock stars

(Logan)

She was kissing him. Kissing him.

She is kissing me.

Got the drift the first time around. You Catch up, already. Don't stand there like a rock.kiss her back. Dammit.

God. God. God. He was blown away. Bits and pieces of him, hung in the air, around them. She smelled of heaven and Earth. Of morning sunshine and thunderstorm.

The kiss. Remember that?

What was he doing waxing poetry of her when she was kissing him?

This kiss was everything he had hoped it would be and still amazingly more. So much more. His imagination was all grayscale in comparison to the technicolor reality.

Her lips touched and teased and coaxed him and he felt her touch in every cell and every bone. Soft and supple, her body was around him. Everywhere. She was everywhere. He was hungry for more, but he couldn't break this sweetness. This gentleness. So he let her kiss in her own pace.

But slowly, slowly, her kiss was breaking him. His cool.

Shy and timid, she kissed like herself. All so innocent, but incredibly passionate. The kiss was gentle, yet also fire.

And he couldn't help anymore. He wanted more.

He pushed her back gently and her back hit the wall and he pressed himself to her amazing body. It felt so good, so good to finally have her in his arms. The back of his mind, the sensible part, it was warning him to back off now, before it was too late, but he couldn't. Just couldn't.

One time. This one time.

He wasn't made of sterner stuff to refuse her when she was in his arms, willingly. And he needed this.

I need this to stop obsessing over her lips. It was sad as an excuse, of course, he knew.

Her lips were like liquid honey, flowing through his bones. Leaving trails of fire in his blood. She moaned when he licked her lips and then she opened it for him and breathed him inside. Her tongue hesitantly touched him and then it grew bolder, teasing, nipping, sucking. Killing.

Ah. He thought. Can I really stay away after this?

Her fingers were tangled in his hair and his hands were trying its best to do everything at once. Touching. Stroking. Grabbing. Feeling. Oh God, he was going to explode soon if she continued with this, but he couldn't stop her.

God. It was like a sensory overload. She filled his senses, mind, heart, body. He couldn't think properly or breathe. But oxygen seemed like a secondary concern when she was there with him, finally, finally kissing him.

Her lips were warm and sweet on him. He hardened and groaned. The pain was too much. If she continued this, he was going to lose it right then and there. Like a school boy.