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“May I kiss you?” Finally. “Yes.” He smiled as he threaded his fingers through my hair. Carefully, he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. His mouth was warm and gentle against my skin, but it wasn’t enough. “Please tell me that wasn’t what you meant.” He laughed softly. “There’s more.” He kissed my cheek, my jaw, and hovered a fraction above my mouth. I ached for his kiss, and when the waiting stretched too long, I closed the distance. He took over, which was just as well, because I forgot where I was or the time or my name. The only thing in the world was his mouth. That kiss. Us.” — Elizabeth Langston
May I kiss you?”
Finally. “Yes.”
He smiled as he threaded his fingers through my hair. Carefully, he leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
His mouth was warm and gentle against my skin, but it wasn’t enough. “Please tell me that wasn’t what you meant.”
He laughed softly. “There’s more.” He kissed my cheek, my jaw, and hovered a fraction above my mouth.
I ached for his kiss, and when the waiting stretched too long, I closed the distance.
He took over, which was just as well, because I forgot where I was or the time or my name. The only thing in the world was his mouth. That kiss. Us.