I lean toward him and press my lips to his. It’s just a light touch of our mouths, yet all the nerve endings in my lips tingle like they’ve been electrified. Oliver’s breath leaves him in a silent exhale, a gentle ghosting over my face. His lips are soft and warm under mine. It’s a gentle kiss, fragile as a feather. When I pull back, Oliver is staring at me, his eyes wide. His chest rises and falls rapidly. “Bloody hell, Callum.”
One of the sweetest I've read. Good book
