She let her lids fall shut and sank into the sensations, like the soft press of his flesh against hers, the smell of his soap. The way his exhales gusted over her skin. How his fingers tightened, as if to hold her close. He’s telling me he wants to discover more.

So did she.

Without overthinking the recklessness of what they were doing, she began kissing him back, matching his movements and capturing his mouth in an even exchange. He grunted softly, and she took that to mean she was doing something right. Then he deepened the kiss, with more suction and pressure, commanding their pace, and she could feel him in every part of her body, from the roots of her hair down to her toes. Tingles slid along her legs, in her core, and her pulse throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

He pulled back slightly. “Stop?”

She shook her head once, then returned her mouth to his, not ready for this lesson to end. Kit did not disappoint, kissing her thoroughly, again and again, his lips coaxing and demanding, and her hands drifted to his shoulders, then up to his hair. The strands were soft, like silk, and she was shocked when a faint moan escaped her throat.

The sound must have excited him because he flicked his tongue against the seam of her lips, and she parted them, surprised. He slipped his tongue in her mouth and rubbed it across hers, and she marveled at the intimacy of it. Kit’s tongue is in my mouth. While unbelievable, it felt divine as he stroked and twisted, twining with hers until she did the same. The second she teased his tongue, turning the slightest bit aggressive, he groaned.

“Yes,” he murmured. “More of that, please.”

She complied, needing to explore his mouth as he had explored hers. The kiss went on and she soon forgot where she was and who she was with. She became this wanton creature, a woman chasing her own pleasure and offering pleasure in return, as if they were of the same mind, the same goal. Her skin crackled, excitement humming just under the surface, and she wished he would kiss her everywhere.

When he pulled back, her fingers unintentionally tightened in his hair. Was that it? She panted and tried to drag air into her lungs. “Are we done?”

His mouth twitched. “Do you want to be done?”

“No, not really.”

“Good, because neither do I. May I bring you over here to sit in my lap? It’ll make it easier on my back, but I don’t wish to frighten you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She had no idea he was uncomfortable. “Of course, if it’s easier for you.”