The slit in the fabric slid open, leaving my skin exposed. I wanted to pull it down, to cover myself, but his hands were already on my waist, warm and firm, holding me in place. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could feel it through my body pressed against his. His lips stayed locked on mine, hungry, forceful, as if he’d been waiting years just to kiss me like this.
My hands trembled against him, first clutching his shoulders, then sliding down to his chest. The heat of his body burned through the thin material of his shirt. Each kiss we shared seemed to pull me in deeper, my mind hazy, my body giving in no matter how much I told myself this was wrong.
When he finally broke the kiss, I gasped for air, my lips swollen and tingling, my whole body aching for more. His eyes held mine,
