TWENTY SEVEN

She moaned quietly as his fingers hastily slid into her hair to cup the back of her head, her eyes shut themselves as her wanton body arched against him. He had kissed her before, several times since the first time, but the urgency with which he kissed her with now sought to make her lose her mind. His lips continued to work against hers impatiently, it was almost as though he sought to drink her in; to drink in every last breath she had to offer, and she loved it, how could she not when she loved him so much?

“What are you doing to me?”. He asked her when their lips broke apart at last.

She was breathing heavily now, they both were, and she found it almost hard to speak at all.

“Distracting you”. She replied breathlessly.

His darkened eyes were intense, so intense that they had her squirming on his lap as wetness begun pooling in between her legs.

“Yes, but should you be doing that now?”. He asked her.

She was indeed distracting him; her heaving bosom was after all in his face