Kiss The Killer
he breathed against my neck, and the way he said my name made me forget my own moral boundaries.
We fell onto the couch together, a tangle of hands and heated kisses. Lucian's shirt came off, revealing the scars I'd only glimpsed before, evidence of a violent life written across perfect skin. I traced them with my fingers, and he shuddered under my touch.
"You don't know what you're doing to me," he said, voice rough.
"Show me."
His response was to capture my mouth again, kissing me like I was air and he was drowning. This was wrong on every level, but my body didn't care about right and wrong. It only cared about the fire burning between us, the way he made me feel alive instead of terrifie
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