Sensitive.

Sensitive.

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Nov 23, 2014
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Fiction
Romance
"Why do you smoke?" I took a deep sigh, he just doesn't shut the fuck up. "Why don't you smoke?" I harshly shot back annoyed by his pointless questioning. "It kills." He shrugged, looking at his shoes. "So does everything else I inhale." The next thing he did shocked me, he took the cigarette from my hands stepping on it, crushing it into the dusty path. "You shouldn't smoke." We locked eyes, and for a moment I saw something I thought would never get to imagine even achieve, concern. "And why shouldn't I?" I question, raising an eyebrow. "Because-" he whispers taking a step closer "You have me." Shit, no he fucking didn't. No, he did not. "Yes, I did". He whispers against my lips, pleasurable chills running up my spine. "Kiss me". And those two words changed my life, forever.
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"Hey B..." I start and he hums in reply, just staring at me with adoration and I find the courage in myself to finish my sentence. "Can you do something for me?" "Anything." He promises, without even knowing what I'm going to ask of him. Jesus, this man is literally going to be the death of me. If so, it'll be a good death indeed. "Kiss me." He doesn't need any more prompting than that. Within milliseconds, his lips are pressed against mine in a gentle caress. His hands move to cup my neck while mine tighten on his shirt, trying to anchor myself as he kisses me slowly and languidly. I could definitely die happy now. His lips are like soft velvet and his hands are coarse from riding but they hold me like I'm the most important thing in the world. He tastes like coffee and smells like wood smoke, a heady combination that has me weak in the knees.

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