Feather (Self-Published)

CH 5: Ex Proprio Motu

He was taking his time and I knew that he was giving me a chance to refuse. But, oddly enough, I was curious how being kissed by him would feel like.

He moved a fraction closer and I could smell coffee on his breath.

Flat white. My mind automatically guessed. Then straightaway went blank when I felt his lips briefly on mine before he moved away.

That's it? I quietly asked myself.

I had never been kissed but my expectations were ultra-high. What woman wouldn't when films and literature bombarded us with the idea of an ever after with just the fusing of eager lips?

"Have you been kissed, Miss Montiel?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Do you know how to kiss?"

"No, but, I know how to in theory," I said feeling the need to defend the utter lack of excitement in my life.

His mouth stretched into a smile. "Knowing how to in theory is cute."

"Being kissed in practice feels kind of bland," I countered.

He quirked a brow. "You found my kiss bland?"

"Yes, Sir," I candidly replied. "Are we done?"

He seemed amused. "No, we are not, Miss Montiel. We have not even started yet," he said.

"Sir—"

He swallowed the rest of my words and I stiffened at the sudden sensual foray. This kiss was different from the first one because it's everything but insipid; it felt so sinful that I started to think that someone had set me on fire.

It started as a full-on invasion of my lips that made my mind incapable of coherent thought before it rendered my lungs incompetent of bringing in fresh oxygen into my body.

He lifted his face a little and I gasped loudly for air.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded.

"I'll be gentler..." he said before his lips were on mine again, this time soft and coaxing.

I felt his hand cup my right cheek as he angled his face so his tongue could delve into my mouth; it explored shamelessly before repeatedly retreating back into its own cavern as if to tease my own.

I was guilty of being a willing recipient and even if I wanted to actively participate in this formal induction to wickedness, I didn't know how; all I knew was whatever it was he's doing to me, I was liking it too much.

He stopped. And we were left staring at each other.

"That was...great..." he said.

I couldn't even articulate a reply.

He got off me and it was only then that I realized that he was practically on top of me with his elbows supporting his weight.

He helped me sit up and we both sat in silence.

"What would get you to say yes to my offer, Miss Montiel?" he asked.

"I don't know..." I honestly replied. "I never really thought that I'd be offered something like this."

He laughed softly. "Do you want me to use a more traditional approach?"

"How do you define traditional?"

"Gusto mo bang...ligawan kita?"

"Is that a joke?"

"What do you mean?"