Josephine-Im kissing him. He's kissing me back.
After I pulled him in and practically forced him to kiss me, he attacked. His tongue invaded my mouth as if it had been on the hunt for something, and it's not stopping anytime soon. I wrapped both arms around his neck, bringing him as close as physically possible. His hand moved from my throat to the back of my head, gripping my hair. His other hand traveled down my lower back to pull me in as close as I was pulling him.
I need this. Please don't stop, I think to myself. His tongue continues its exploration, not missing a single spot in its hasty attack. He pulls back, my lungs thankful for the air, but my mouth suddenly too empty. He's breathing heavily, our breaths in sync. All of this pent up frustration inside me is fighting to come out, and this seems to be the only way to release it. I need him to kiss me again.
He stares down at me, his eyes locked on my swollen lips. "I don't think you hate me as much as you want me to believe." He smirks, causing my panties to flood uncomfortably.
"Shut up, please, just shut up." I breathe out, pulling him back in for more. He doesn't resist, diving right back into my mouth as if he needs this just as much as I do. He still has strawberries on his breath, and it tastes divine on my tongue.
He releases my hair and grabs my legs to hoist me up, wrapping them around his waist. My broken leg sticks straight out while the other expertly wraps around his waist, but there's no need to worry about falling with the tight grip he has on my ass. I push my boobs into his chest, causing him to groan into my mouth. He quickly turns and starts up the steps, carrying me as if I weigh nothing, never breaking our kiss. Each step he takes grinds his hips into mine, sending me nearly into a frenzy. I try to stifle a moan, but there's a lot of steps.
I feel him grin on my lips, and I pull his hair but refuse to release his mouth. I'm hungry— starving... and I'm not stopping until I've had my fill.
We make it to the top, and turn down the hall towards my room, and eventually my bed. Our tongues never broke contact, and neither did our hips. He lays me down on the bed, breaking our kiss and coming to a stand, staring down at me. My arms move to cover my chest under his scrutiny—
"Don't." He growls out. His eyes rake down my body, staying on my chest for longer than I can stand. My cheeks heat at his boldness. He grips the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head quickly to reveal his muscled body.
God, I moan inwardly. This man is not real.
He then shifts to unbuckle his belt, his pants following suit. He slowly bends down to remove them, his eyes never leaving mine. This is where I typically feel awkward. Watching a man undress while horny is like being a teenager again, everything is awkward— but not with this man, no. With him, I feel heavily wanted, almost as if its guaranteed he's going to have me. I've been wondering and dreaming what this would be like with him, and so far, it's almost as if I can't breathe, it's so perfect.
It's not romantic, it's not shy, there's no hesitation— it's pure. carnal. lust. It fits, for us, I mean. With our constant bickering and glaring, this is the only way it would work.
He stands to his full height, moving his hands to the band of his black boxer briefs. I take that moment to leer at the 'v' he has disappearing into the thin band, a dark line of hair lining the middle. My mouth suddenly goes dry at the realization of him pulling them down, revealing his thick, hard and veiny dick. It springs out, the tip bulbous and shiny from his pre-cum.
"Jeeesus," I groan lowly.
Clearly, I affect him, and he's got it bad. He can't deny this tomorrow. I've seen it, and he knows it. He stares at me, my mouth slightly hanging open from the sheer size of him. I mean, I've seen enough dicks, porn and in person, to know that this man has been very blessed. I consider spouting out the popular 'I don't think it'll fit' bit, but I'm gonna make it fit no matter what it takes. So no need in boosting his ego when he has that thing hanging around in his pants daily.
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YOU ARE READING
First Love (Book 1. The Black Heart Series)
RomanceJosephine- Interior design is my life's calling, and my dreams are practically handed to me on a silver platter when I come across this old Victorian for sale in sunny Georgia. My life couldn't get any better.. that is until I meet my grumpy, dark...