Grayson kissed her like a man who had been holding his breath for eight years and finally — finally — remembered how to exhale.The first press was firm, almost bruising, mouths sealing together with a quiet, desperate sound. Then his lips parted hers, slow but insistent, and his tongue slipped inside not tentative, not teasing, but deep, like he needed to taste every forgotten corner of her right now or he would die from it.Shayla opened for him instantly, a broken little sound escaping her throat as their tongues met. The first slide was electric, wet, hot, familiar in a way that cracked something wide open inside her chest. His tongue stroked along the length of hers in one long, trembling glide, then curled around it, pulling her deeper into his mouth like he was trying to drink her whole.She met him stroke for stroke, tongues tangling, sliding, pressing, retreating only to chase again. It was messy, saliva slicking their lips, breaths hitching in sharp, uneven gasps between kis
Última actualización : 2026-01-20 Leer más