My Forbidden Fruit
“Fuck this!!” he groaned.
And then his lips met mine in fury, so fiercely that it might bruise.
Desperate.
Like he’d been holding back for too long.
Like the guilt, the denial, the distance had all crumbled beneath the pressure of his want.
My lips parted instinctively, a soft, startled sound escaped me as he devoured every inch of my breath. His hands left my throat only to frame my face, fingertips trembling.
I melted into him. Arms curling around his neck. My legs wrapped around his waist like I was trying to tether myself to something real, something solid, even if it was forbidden.
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