His arms tense against the wall and the next thing I feel is his stubble scraping my cheek, sending shockwaves through me. His lips follow, the contrasting softness spurring a thousand butterflies in my stomach. He gently kisses my cheekbone, then presses another achingly sharp and sweet stubbly kiss next to it. My hands reach up to fist in his t-shirt, pulling him closer. His lips move again, on a path to where I’m desperate for them, and I tilt my mouth hungrily to meet his, not caring where we are or what’s going on around us, just desperate for more of him. His lips skim mine,
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