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18

Peyton

The kiss is long and deep to the extent that my world begins spinning, with my knees growing weak and wobbly.

Being beaten terribly by the rain, too many emotions twirling in my heart, and a thousand thoughts slamming through my mind, makes me feel foggy. But Killian's firm grip on the small of my back restrains me from falling, with his mouth never leaving mine as he kisses me like the way a thirsty man in a desert craves water.

I've been kissed senselessly on several occasions by Lancelot, but not this way. 

Killian seems to be more experienced in kissing. His lips are hard and not gentle at all despite the rain and the smell of vodka from his breath.

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