#50DaysCountDownTo2015 – Day 33. Written by Praise Oluwarinu, she blogs at Inkedhearted.blogspot.com
It wasn’t like I’d never been kissed before. But I’d never had a guy really look at me with such seriousness, the entirety of his attention of the void between us.
He pressed his lips to mine, a silent question. His dissonance drifted round me, like fairy dust, heightening my senses, and I leaned in and answered with my own kiss, my fingers clutching his shirt.
The air seemed warmer, but it was not the air; it was him pulling me closer, and my blood thrilled the way it did when I first saw him, so much fire and mystery.
An illusion, I said to myself, a dream. But he felt real, no, he was real. Totally solid and strong, and as he wrapped his arms around me, awakening my body to his touch, my world began to spin.
I felt free in his arms, free to explore every nook and cranny of him, to feel and memorize every inch of his face as my hands moved all over him, lingering at a spot and moving to the next.
He had begged for entrance into my mouth and I had given him. And suddenly, I felt a zap of passion, like I had just been set aflame, the fervor and the zeal he put into devouring my mouth. He had once called it an entry into my soul and now he was adoringly taking possession of it.
Again, his lips pressed tightly against mine, too forced, as if he expected this kiss to be our last and wanted to savor it for eternity. His lips were smooth, supple. His bottom lip pursed tightly over mine.
His hands caressed my neck, slowing sliding up to my flushed cheek. The hand was cool at first, until it made its way to my cheek. After that all I felt was the intense warmth radiating off my sin.
It was magic, the way his lips connected with mine. It was right, and somehow, among all of the dizziness and the clinging to him like a life line, something inside me changed, never to be reversed. This new feeling could be dwelled upon later, because, for now, I was content to feel his breath come and go with mine.
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