“He kissed me in a way that I’ve only read about in stories.
(Soft, hard, passionate, fun)
He kissed my neck and brushed his lips against my nose. He pinned my arms down above my head and kissed me like he was drowning and I was air. His long fingers went around my throat as my mouth opened for his.
(Thank God I know CPR)
He would feel me. He would race his fingers over my skin, prodding, like he wanted to know me to my muscles, to my bones.
(I think he gave me goosebumps seven different times)
He would wrap his arms around me and pull me into his chest as he massaged the muscles in my back with one hand and played with my hair with the other.
(We’ve only just met, and that was something I could sell my soul for, but I got it for free)”
This wasn’t love, but dear God, it could be.