You, In My Bed

Henry had always believed kisses were boring. They were just a means to get to the good part, the part where both people involved in the act where they would fuck like rabbits in heat.

But now, as Zoe’s soft lips were set on his, it felt better than any sex he had ever had. Her lips tasted rich, dipped with mint. She tasted like everything that could describe sin. And she was passionate about it. Grabbing the back of her head, he pushed his tongue into her.

He sucked on her tongue as she pushed her breasts into his chest while his other arm wrapped itself around her waist. The chiseled feeling of his muscular arms sent a shiver down her spine. Her shirt was getting bundled up as the passion grew. There was not enough oxygen in their lungs.

But they did not care. They were far too gone to give a shit. They were too drunk. Too happy. Too lost in the euphoric feeling.

Passion burned, their breaths mingled and lust flared as they both tumbled down to the bed. Warmth and darkness engul