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“Lia, I was a mathlete, for crying out loud. All my free time before I got to where I am now was either spent studying, working to help take care of shit at home, gaming, or with you. And I don’t need to remind you that before tonight, we never kissed, so…”
“Wait, so I am your first kiss?”
He bows his head for a beat. “My first and only.”
Be still, my emo heart, this is the cutest—hottest—thing I’ve ever heard.
“I’m honored.” My hand brushes against his cheek, the warmth taking over it spreading to my palm as I rub it. “If it makes you feel better, you’re a really good kisser.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I mean it. You kiss with such passion. It feels like you’ve done it so many times before.”
“I guess I kind of have.”
“Oh?” The inflection in my voice rises in pitch with curiosity.
“In my dreams I’ve kissed you.”
My lips fall to a pout. “You dream of me?”
“More times than I could ever keep track of.”
In silence we exchange a look that speaks all on its own, and before I know it the bashful man from before is gone and in his place is the version of Rennix that I know has been dying to come out.
He anchors his hands to my hips. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way. I need to kiss you again. Now.”
A heated groan vibrates against my skin as his lips explore my neck, peppering kisses onto it. Each one sends a surge of fire throughout my entire body. It’s hard to believe with how attentive his kisses are that this is all new to him. He kisses me like I was made for him to devour.
“Lia,” he whispers.
“Yes?”
“I want to keep kissing you.” The way he says it with such primal need has me absolutely feral.
“So kiss me.”
His hands drift to between my legs, hovering just above my concealed clit. “How about here?”
My kind of man.
Lowering my hands to my skirt, I bunch it in my grip and creep it upward. “You want a taste?”
“Yes.” His response becomes lost in a pant. “I may not be experienced, but I catch on to things fast.” The eagerness in his voice is to die for.
“How do you want me to sit?” I ask, assuming he’ll want me to switch places and have me on the chair while he kneels on the floor.
“On my face.” The eagerness he’s exuded revs up a notch when he rips his glasses off, tossing them to the ground.
“Don’t you need those to see?”
He takes advantage of his hand placement on my hip and lifts me up until my knees are in line with his shoulders and my pussy is mere inches from his mouth. “If you like something I do, let me hear it, so I know to keep going. That’s all that matters to me. My face is yours to fuck. Use it.”
“But your face is too pretty to use,” I singsong, with every intention of riding his face to orgasm. I like hearing him talk like this.
“And you’re too pretty and too perfect not to be used by. Now sit,” he commands, voice rough yet inviting. “We don’t have all night, and I want you to make a mess on me.”
I lower myself close enough that my wet warmth is accessible, but far enough that I’m not suffocating him.
