His mouth finds mine again, but that’s all it does. He doesn’t kiss me. Our lips touch and our breath collides and our eyes meet, but there isn’t a kiss. What our mouths are doing is so much more than that. With every thrust inside me, his lips slide over mine, and his eyes grow hungrier, but he never once kisses me. A kiss is so much easier than what we’re doing. When you kiss, you can close your eyes. You can kiss away the thoughts. You can kiss away the pain, the doubt, the shame. When you close your eyes and kiss, you protect yourself from the vulnerability. This isn’t us protecting
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