28| Kissing and Kindling

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The thrum of my heart ignited against the softened feel of her lips, my need for her struggling to stay rooted in my chest as her willingness to have me seeped right into my fucking bones.

Despite her aversion to whatever was happening between us, she melted against the friction of our desires, pulling me closer with each needy little touch as her hands clutched at my shirt in semi-awareness of the very little space that was left between our bodies. The pads of her fingers dug desperately into my skin, her hold on me tightening with each lingering breath. She felt so delicate as I held onto her, her lips smoother, and softer, and sweeter than I had remembered, my reasons for wanting her splintering into a million pieces as I struggled to think past the haze of what we were doing.

She took me by surprise as she spearheaded the sway of our bodies, clutching onto my sanity as I kissed her slowly, savouring the press of her lips as she gave into me much easier than I ever thought she would.

She wanted me, it didn't matter how much she denied it—she hated that she did, she hated it so much, and still her lips begged for me to take control of this.

It was a dangerous, damning feeling—wrapping around us like barbed wire and silk, tangling and teasing against our weaknesses.

Every breath she took trembled with her realisation, her light caresses testing the limits of my hunger as a gnawing passion pulsed in my chest. I was struggling with the ability to restrain myself as my hands moved over her tiny frame, imprinting her curves into my memory as the sensations of her touch grew and twined around my lungs.

I had fucked my way through most of the women in this town, and not one of them had ever managed to unravel me like this—with just the touch of her mouth against mine, fully clothed and out in the open.

The tenderness of this moment was almost too much to bare as I felt her reaching for my soul, tugging it towards her in reverence—cleansing it of the dirt and the grime that had made a home inside of me, replacing it with something so fucking pure it almost brought me to my knees.

Her kiss was as gentle as she was, it was a softened plea full of timid resolve, almost as if she couldn't quite believe that anyone would ever want her like this—and fuck, she made it feel like I'd never been kissed before.

Her breathy little gasps felt so innocent as she explored my mouth at her own pace, her tentative touches getting needier the more she tasted what I had to offer.

My hands moved to her hair as I twisted my fist around her golden strands, her mouth opening as she gifted me with a surprised little moan. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as I looked down at her, swallowing the sound and relishing it as it sliced through the air and clung to my need to possess her completely, my patience snapping in one clean cut.

My other hand moved to the small of her back, the touch making her shudder as she arched her body into mine like it was an instinct. My heart was beating at a feral pace as her hands smoothed against my chest in retaliation, and if we weren't standing in the middle of this damn carpark, I would have torn the clothes right off my body just to feel her hands flat against my skin.

Even still, her hands on me were heavenly despite all the layers between us and her touch made me want to fucking repent for everything I had ever done before I had made her mine.

She inhaled sharply when my mouth became more demanding, heightening the kiss with my hunger for her, claiming her in a way I knew no one else ever could. She twisted against the strength of my hold, my will to have her in the most damning way possible eclipsing the truth of her tenderness, taking it and destroying it, filling it with something that rivalled the spark of danger that had twined around our limbs.

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