You know the feeling when you get obsessed with a story that is this exciting and consuming? when you feel so much the fictional characters of a book that you actually have become friends or fall in love with them ? that their life becomes part of yours? that you actually never want the story to end?
It’s like a drop of honey, a field of tulips blooming in the springtime. It’s a fresh rain, a whispered promise, a cloudless sky, the perfect punctuation mark at the end of a sentence. And it’s the only thing in the world keeping me afloat.
I’m beyond rational thought. Beyond words, beyond comprehensible ideas. Seconds are merging into minutes and hearts are collapsing and hands are grasping and I’ve tripped over a planet and I don’t know anything anymore, I don’t know anything because nothing will ever be able to compare to this. Nothing will ever capture the way I’m feeling right now. Nothing matters anymore. Nothing but this moment and his mouth on my body, his hands on my skin, his kisses in brand-new places making me absolutely, certifiably insane. I cry out and cling to him, dying and somehow being brought back to life in the same moment, the same breath.
I want you. I want all of you. I want you inside and out and catching your breath and aching for me like I ache for you. It’s never been a secret. I’ve never tried to hide that from you. I’ve never pretended I wanted anything less
It’s always been apparent that Warner takes pride in his appearance; his outfits are impeccable; his clothes fit him like they were cut for his body. But now I finally understand why he took such care with my wardrobe. He wasn’t trying to patronize me. He was enjoying himself.
I close my eyes, dragging a hand down my face; my fingers linger against my lips. I could feel her. I could really feel her. Even thinking about it now makes my heart race. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I keep having such intense dreams about her. I won’t be able to function at all.