“You are . . . amazing.” She smiles, that gorgeous, charming smile that nearly swallows her entire face, and I want to just kiss the hell out of it. So I do. I drag her closer to me and slant my mouth over hers, this time taking on the role of the aggressor. I don’t kiss like she does. My kisses aren’t light, sweet, breezy things. Mine are hungry, obscene, devouring sorts of kisses. I slick my tongue over hers, wanting her to realize just how much I need her, how much she arouses me even though she’s the opposite of what I always thought I’d want. I’m so gods-damned hungry for her that I don’t
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