His & Mine | Sequel to Make It Known | DISCONTINUED

Chapter One: Kissing

Chapter One: Kissing

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Ophelia:

It started with Luke helping me with my math homework. It's my worst subject and I hate it. He, on the other hand, did really well in math in high-school. He's a really patient tutor and I think I'm starting to understand that whole thing about graphing quadratics and solving polynomials.

Except, somehow we end up making-out on his bed. He sits with his back to the headboard, propped up with pillows, and I stay perched on his lap with my legs tucked behind me and we just... well... kiss.

Kissing Luke is my favourite thing in the whole universe. Better than ice-cream, better than fro-yo. Even, I'll admit, better than Jane Austen. Now that was a frightening realization, let me tell you.

He keeps his hands on my waist usually. Sometimes runs them through my hair, pushes it away from my face. Sometimes he'll keep a hand resting on the small of my back, on my shoulder-blades, or he'll hold my face, brush a rough thumb across my cheek, my jaw.

I like touching him, too. He just feels so... good. So perfect. His body is tall and lean and firm and hard... I wrap my arms around his neck sometimes, or sift them through the soft, dark waves of his tousled hair, or let them float across his shoulders, or rest my palms against the top of his chest.

When Luke and I kiss, every part of me lights up, a thousand times brighter than normal. My entire body just hums. My insides turn all soft and fluttery, and goosebumps break out all over my skin, and heat pools low in my abdomen, and everything tingles and ignites and gets all warm and mushy...

His lips are so soft. When he first kissed me, we just used our lips, pressed them together, moved them softly against each other. Took a small break for air before our mouths met again. It felt so nice, especially because I could tell, from how gentle but firm and tender his kisses were that he cares about me, that he likes me and that I mean something to him.

But then, at some point, my lips parted and my mouth opened a little. And then he started using his tongue.

Oh my God. His tongue is warm and soft and wet and he sweeps it gently across my lips, slips it into my mouth, brushes it against my tongue, my teeth. I taste more of him this way.

And of course, I use my tongue, too. I know he likes it. A lot, I think. I kinda nudge and stroke his tongue with mine. A little here and there, in between the twisting movement of our lips. He tastes like... like Luke.

Like my boyfriend.

He's my boyfriend. Best. Boyfriend. Ever.

And... the sounds he makes? So hot. Small, low groans, teeny rough growls from the back of his throat, short little breaths.

When we kiss each other, our mouths make these soft, slick wet noises together.

My favourite is when he nips gently at my lips with his lips, or with his teeth. On occasion, he'll give my bottom lip a soft bite and then suck it into the warm of his mouth. I always let out this stupid whimpering sound, I can't help it, and there's a stab of burning heat that lights up at the centre of me, makes me feel so... womanly.