This is it. He's going to die, and I'll be free.
At the last second, he moved, and I was suddenly pinned up against the wall, the silver dagger now in his hand. He pressed the blade to my throat, a sadistic grin creeping across his face.
"Oh, Reese...
A/N: I have no idea what the hell I'm doing, so any feedback would be splendid.
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Not giving myself a moment to think better, I swiftly brought my lips to his, my eyes closing as my fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer.
I felt his entire being stiffen against me, just as surprised as I was. I wanted to know his reaction. Was he disgusted? Shocked? Was he going to push me away at any moment? As much as I needed to know, I kept my eyes closed. While I wanted to know, I also didn't want to know.
Was I scared of rejection? That this sick yearning blooming in my bones was something only I was feeling? Why did it matter if it was or not? As far as I knew, this was the worst idea I'd ever heard. Kissing the enemy? What was I thinking?
However, before I had the chance to pull away, he seemed to awaken, as if from a deep slumber, and kissed me back.
Hard.
Right, well so much for that idea.
At once, I last out a sharp gasp as pleasure rapidly coursed through me, dulling my rational thoughts. Each and every one of my senses augmented more and more the longer this went on. His intoxicating scent of pine trees and springtime swirled around me, causing my head to spin - or maybe that was from the low amount of oxygen able to make it to my lungs. Every point his hands brushed against as they slid down my arms and onto my waist felt heightened, my skin tingling and flaming with his every touch. I felt as though I was drowning in the sensation.
Does kissing normally feel like this? It's a wonder I haven't done it before.
Some dark, tormented part of me found the thought humorous. How I've never really been kissed before, and yet am not a virgin.
I pushed the thought away as quickly as it came.
He nipped at my bottom lip, his teeth grazing over the soft flesh. I gasped again, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth.
Well, the feeling certainly was... interesting.
When I was younger, the thought of kissing anybody disgusted me. I was never one to enjoy physical touch, whether it be from a friend or my own mother. The scientific child in me knew of the physical, biological, and chemical parts of kissing - but nobody could even begin to tell me how it felt. How my emotions ranged out of control - which they often did anyway, but this time, I enjoyed it.
He brushed his tongue along my lips, tracing them, agonizingly slow and gentle. My hands still tangled in his shirt, I pulled him closer still - of course forgetting the unfair distance in height between us and the table the back of my thighs pressed against.
He solved the problem immediately, however, his hands sliding down to cup said thighs and lift me onto said table, giving me a few more inches of height.
