28. Sweet Kisses

'He is plague. He is pestilence.' - Bloodsongs/

~

(Art)

Art wanted to breathe, but that was just a secondary concern. Now, he wanted more of her and that was primary. A need so strong like a tempest pulled him in and he gave in. He had to give in, it was physically impossible to not give in.

He did try to resist, but he couldn't. Not when she was looking at him like he had just kicked her. He couldn't see that look. That dejected look.

He grabbed her by her hips. And her eyes were glimmering as she looked up. And he felt his heart expand and fill up with tenderness.

He gave in. To her force, to her seduction, to her heat. It was hard not to. It would need him tens, millions of years to find that kind of resistance, and even then he wouldn't have found the will to resist. She was s quicksand, pulling him in with a force that was not necessarily bad. No, it was good, very good.

'But very wrong.' He knew. His conscience knew. But... he was so far gone to resist the pull of her. Res