don’t enjoy kissing. It’s never been my thing.” My stomach jumps into my throat, my knuckles tight from where I’m gripping the counter. “But I swear to God, I’d let the world burn if it meant I could taste your lips.” My heart free-falls into my stomach, my brain waging war against my body. My hands come up to push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.” “Do what?” “Don’t push me away.” His hips press into mine, the outline of his erection thick and hard against my stomach. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.” He speaks against my lips. “Tell me you
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