6. Dreamless sleep

Larissa Maynard

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I still didn’t understand what Caspian was doing in my house. I didn’t know why he was kissing me but I blamed it on the alcohol as I kissed him back.

“You taste like champagne.” I breathed out when he pulled away just enough for his lips to latch onto my neck.

“And you taste like my fucking favorite wine.”

It was my favorite wine now, but I couldn’t reply to him as he continued to kiss down my neck. I knew it was wrong to let him kiss me but his kisses and touches were so fucking familiar that I couldn’t stop him even if I tried. It was easy to get lost in him when I was tipsy; when the wine I drank reminded me of him.

When he was in my house after five years of no contact, holding me like I was his again.

My back automatically arched as I bared my neck for him, giving them space to place open-mouthed kisses on my neck. My breathing was heavy and my brain was in a haze as I pulled him by his shirt so I could kiss him again.

Caspian devoured my mouth like he used