I’ve dreamed this before only to have him dissipate when I open my eyes. It’s why I’m clinging to him. I run my fingers over his skin, feeling the cords of muscle under the pads of my fingers. I squeeze and play. He lets me, a bemused smile tracing his lips. #FridayKiss
I wrap my hands up around his back, fingers splayed out roaming slowly, pressing, exploring the hard muscle under my hands. I’m just making this look convincing. Putting on a show. Doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying myself. #FridayKiss
“Just right.” It’s true. My hands mold perfectly to his shoulders. Steady handlebars beneath my hands as I prop myself up in front of him. His response is a purr of pleasure as I trace from his collarbone to his earlobe. #FridayKiss
I’m lying in bed, scrolling back through our text exchange. I have the strangest sensation in my stomach, not quite butterflies, but it’s warm and tingly, like the beginning of a good date. #FridayKiss
I’m thinking about a goodnight kiss. His mind must be in similar territory, because the hand holding mine grips tighter and his thumb brushes my knuckles, back and forth. How that small gesture can generate so much heat, I can’t say, but we need the to-go containers. #FridayKiss
I breathe him in, let him hold me, protect me, and I don’t bother to wipe away the tear that slips out of the corner of my eye. It’s emotional, it’s too big a feeling to contain, and I think that for once, with this big guy, that’s ok. #FridayKiss
“So pretty,” he whispers. “You have no idea. I wish you could understand how beautiful you are to me.”
I step towards him to be welcomed into his arms. His warm skin pressed to mine, his strong heavy arms wrapped around my back is soft, beautiful, heaven. #FridayKiss
I was right about beards being dirty. His is downright lewd. His gaze is steady, hands folded politely like he’s in church, but the heat in his eyes tell me his thoughts are not those you should have in a place of worship. No, they’re filthy. Filthy beard thoughts. #FridayKiss
“Becca,” he pants against my hair. He sounds desperate. I understand. I bury my face against his chest, huffing in his scent as my hands pull him closer. There isn’t a molecule of air between us and still I pull. Not close enough. #FridayKiss
The way he kisses me feels like worship. One of his hands tangles in my hair, holding me in place as his mouth claims mine. His other hand settles on my hip, slides lower, and gives me a squeeze. It feels protective and like a promise that I don’t quite understand. #FridayKiss
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P&P
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Persuasion
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Emma
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N&S
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