Excerpts of stories i'll never write

#50

All this time I've only ever wanted him in an innocent most pure way but here we were tearing our clothes off. He kissed me as though I was the oxygen he needed to breathe, he needed me. His fingers left a trail, reminding me of where he'd been. As he slid both his strong hands up the side of my rib cage,      my skin burned with desire. He created an addict and every addict needed an addiction. Mine was him.