The brush of lips became a full-blown kiss, and it was his tongue that pierced my lips, that filled my mouth, his mouth that filled mine. It was as if that writhing dancelike movement went all the way down his body and inside mine. But we could. His face filled my vision, then his lips brushed mine.
Ronnie threw her head back and made a noise that I never wanted to hear my friend make while I was in the same room. Perfect for watching him push his way inside me. Hmm, three days home sick, then no answer. I have lived with others more powerful than I in Belle Morte's line for centuries, Anita.
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