Maybe the fountain’s enchantment was at work because Tella imagined by the time she finished kissing Dante, she’d forget every other boy who’d ever touched her mouth. Dante’s lips moved to her jaw, gently nipping and licking as his hands found the rope he’d tied around her waist. Knotting his fingers with it, he pulled her closer, until everything was made of just the two of them. Of their hands and their lips and the places their skin met. They hadn’t even broken apart and Tella was already thinking of kissing him again, and again, tasting not merely his lips but every single one of his
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my couple fr
