When he finally pulls away, his eyes are as red as the blood on his lips and I can’t resist the urge to taste it. To taste him, and my blood on his tongue. It’s sex and scarlet, a flavor I want more of. “Now who’s got a dirty mouth?” I taunt. He kisses me hard enough to shut me up and I stroke his face with equal affection. “God, I love you,” he mutters. And for the first time ever, I believe those words to be true.
