I pull his head down and our mouths reconnect, a reunion one full week in the making, the delicious taste of him on my tongue assaulting my senses in the best possible way.
Pressing our lips together, we make out, unhurriedly. Recklessly. Moaning. Sighing. Wet. Tongues, lips, and teeth.
It’s perfect.
“Shit, that’s sexy. If I thought—“
“Shhhh!”
I pull him down again, my palms running lightly over his bent shoulders, memorizing every smooth contour of this boy’s sinewy muscles—this shy boy who kisses me so sweetly that my heart could actually burst from the joy of it all. This shy and cautious boy who makes me feel beautiful. Wanted.
Confident.
Like I steal his breath away.
The way he steals away mine.