God.
Oh God!
I’d never kissed him and he’d only kissed me once. And when he did, I didn’t really kiss him back I just went along for the ride.
Oh God.
God!
Well, f**k it. If I sucked it would only mean my world coming to an end.
No pressure.
Damn.
I lifted a hand to his neck, tipped my face back, held his eyes and pressed my lips to his.
Then I closed my eyes as I smelled his cologne.
God. Amazing.
I ran my tongue along the crease of his lips.
Then suddenly his arm was locked around me, my torso was tight to his, my body twisted so I was angled across his and partially in his lap and his other hand drove into my hair as his tongue thrust into my mouth and he kissed me.
Plunder.
I had it once.
I missed it desperately.
My arms circled his shoulders, one hand in his hair. I held on and enjoyed the heck out of the ride.
He broke the kiss but pressed my head in, his shifting so my lips were at his ear and his were at mine.
“You see me, four days, fourteen, four hours, Anya, you kiss me,” he growled in my ear.
“Okay,” I whispered in his.
His hand at my waist slid up my side then down as he murmured in my ear, “My baby and lemon drops.”
I shivered.
“When I f**k you drunk, you drink lemon drops.”
I shivered again and whispered, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he whispered back then, “Fuck. So f**kin’ sweet.”
I turned my head slightly so I could smell his neck.
I didn’t know what that was but whoever created his cologne should be given a medal, an island or their very own small country.
Knight, who didn’t miss much, didn’t miss me taking him in.
“You like that?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.