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My tongue dives straight into Jiwie's mouth, exactly where she had been inviting me all along. Her soft, rosy lips taste like pure chaos, driving me absolutely insane. I'm kissing her, our lips colliding, but it feels like I'm melting. My knees are shaking—not just from desire, but from fear, from the sheer thrill of it—because the person I'm touching right now is completely off-limits.
It's a kiss born of forbidden passion, a taboo union that should not be, yet cannot be denied. As our tongues entwine, a symphony of pleasure erupts, a celestial dance of desire that leaves us both breathless. I taste the sweetness of her kiss, the delicate flavor of her lips, and it's akin to drinking nectar from the gods. Each stroke of my tongue against hers sends jolts of electricity through my very being, awakening dormant yearnings and stoking the flames of my lust.
I cup her cheeks with both hands, but the touch feels almost sacred—I’m not trying to hurt her. Then, my hands slide to the back of her head, and I swear, I have no idea what I’m doing. My body keeps shifting like I can’t stay still, like her very existence is messing with my senses. This isn’t about her kiss—it’s about her. The way she’s got me weak in my own grip right now.
I’ve never been in this kind of intimate touch before, and it’s setting my whole body on fire. Finally, our kiss breaks, leaving only the sound of our ragged breaths in this dead silence. Jiwie grips the collar of my shirt, her fist tightening around the fabric. I glance down at her, and just before her eyes meet mine, I slip my hands under her arms, lifting her onto a table. My stance ends up right between her thighs.
Her palms rest lightly against the table’s surface for support. I push her jasmine-scented hair back from her shoulders—just for a little nose graze. But before that, my arms wrap around her waist, pulling her forward in one sharp tug. Her chest collides against mine, closing every last inch of space between us. Our noses brush, breath mingling in the heat of the moment.
"You're not going anywhere tonight." I lock eyes with her, firm and unwavering. She instantly drops her gaze, avoiding mine. But then, something shifts—her brows knit together as she looks back up at me, a hint of concern on her face.
"You are hard," she stammers hesitantly. I bite the inside of my cheek, looking down, but strangely enough, I don’t feel embarrassed.
"You made the mess. Fix it."
"Did I?"
"You're teasing," I murmur, my voice low. I drag the tip of my nose from beneath Jiwie’s ear down to her neck, inhaling the warm, sandalwood scent of her skin. A shiver runs through me when she softly trails her fingers down my back.
My palm rests on her knee as I slowly inch up the fabric, revealing her bare skin—she knows it, but she doesn’t stop me. With hesitation, I press a few damp, teasing kisses along her neck and collarbone. The slowness is only making my anticipation double, winding me up even more.
