Androphobia

xxvi. lovers and murderers

I'll Wait - ¿Téo?

THEA'S POV:

Growing up, I was never quite sure what to expect from my first kiss.

Through the eyes of a child, it had been a forbidden fruit to me, something so very near and yet so far out of my reach. And over time, I came to accept that the moment would only ever come after marriage, where a man would place his lips on mine as a seal of agreement and understanding, not necessarily of love. It would be something shy with the awkward moving of mouths and the clashing of teeth, wondering where to put our hands or how to hold each other.

But when Synn's lips touched mine, I finally understood why people described kissing as melting because I could feel every square inch of my body dissolve into his.

His lips were soft, soft like rosebuds, and I could taste salt on them as one of my tears came between us. As I hesitantly moved my mouth against his, I attempted to memorise the feeling if it was the last I'd ever have. It was sweet. It was gentle - but I soon realised he wasn't moving. Pausing, my fingers stayed curled around his necklace as I removed my mouth from his and looked up at him doubtfully.

The man was frozen. Staring. As lightning struck, his shadowy figure was illuminated by white, revealing the tension in his bicep beside my head and his tattooed abdomen before me. Qualms overcoming me, I licked my lips.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

Before I could complete my sentence, Synn's hand was slipping through my hair and he was pressing his lips against mine.

This time, I was the one frozen: frozen by the heat of him, the warmth of his mouth and his fingers on the nape of my neck. But like ice, I thawed in his hold and found myself kissing him back. My lips were hesitant against his firm ones as my hands drifted down to his chest in the darkness; I could feel the rapid beat of his heart against my palm through the warm, hard muscle above me as our lips moulded together, a reminder that this was real, that he was real and with me. My stomach tightened as he tilted his head to the side and clasped me tighter, deepening the kiss until I could feel my toes curl.

Was I allowed to feel this way about someone? Was I allowed to have a man hold me in his arms and so shamelessly kiss all my worries away?

And truly, those worries did fade as I found my eyes fluttering and my fingers clinging onto him as the only solid thing in our dizzy and swaying world.

My bag dropped to the floor as he pushed me gently against the wall. Our heavy breaths entwined with the sound of raindrops beating the windows; I didn't know if I was doing this right or wrong but the feel of his other hand sliding to the small of my back and pressing so deep had my heart exploding and my veins about to burst. Synn's tongue slid across the seam of my lips and I parted them for him, and as his tongue entered, I couldn't keep a soft moan from escaping me.

Suddenly, he pulled away and I was panting for air. His eyes were dark and untamed in the shadows of the penthouse, his hair tousled and his shoulders heaving. "Fuck," he muttered. His gaze fell back to my mouth. "Do that again."

And then he was kissing me.

Kissing me and kissing me until I was barely steady and more breathy moans were leaving my mouth. It was as if his sole purpose was to get every sound out of me that he could. His tongue stroked mine and his tongue piercing sent pleasurable shivers down my spine to the place where his hand rested on my back. As another whimper left my lips, Synn groaned and his hands slipped to my thighs. I found myself being hoisted against the wall, skirt riding up my legs and pelvis pressed against his stomach. I wrapped my arms around his neck.