Naleighna Kai's Literary Cafe Magazine NK Literary Cafe 2018 Mother's Day Issue | Page 57

He placed one single capsule between his teeth. “This,” he whispered, “is me being kind.” He covered her mouth with his. At first, she didn’t respond. Slowly her lips parted, her tongue tentative in its touch. When he nipped her bottom lip, she opened fully. He released the pill into her mouth, following it with his tongue. He went to pull back, in case she had difficulty. Without missing a breath, Sarah swallowed, grabbed a handful of his shirt and hauled him closer. “Open,” she urged him, deepening the kiss. Lance never liked taking orders, but hell, he followed Sarah’s direction down to the last letter. Her lips were moist, and plump. She knew when to increase pressure, when to thrust, and when to parry. Her exploration of his mouth was bold, a blatant intrusion. Shit, she’s a good kisser. Teasing, tasting, nipping at his lip, she worked all of it on him. The need to possess her built with such intensity he thought he might cream himself. He jerked away from the contact on a groan. Lance caught his breath at the realization. Sarah had taken control of the kiss. He stopped thinking about possessing her. He tried, with the last functioning brain cell, to figure out how the hell she’d unmanned him with a single kiss. Lance waited until her eyes opened. They were clouded with lust, the color dark and smoky. Her breath came in short pants, so did his. She had kissed him back, and not for medicinal purposes. “Sarah,” he paused. “You kissed me.” Actually, she’d kissed the shit out of him. Lance didn’t know if he should be angry, excited, or grateful as hell that she knew how to bring him to his knees with her skillful mouth. He might never eat again. He could stay full off the taste of her on his lips, the tantalizing smell of her skin. “So, I did,” she said, a little breathy. “I’ve always been open to learning.” He smiled. “Learning, eh?” The way she laid claim to his mouth it felt as if she was a master instructor. “Before I give up the goods, tell me your last name, sweetheart.” She broke eye contact before mumbling, “Jones. Sarah Jones.” www.sieralondon.com