»»————- ♡ ————-««
Every Friday I share the first kiss from one of my books.
This week it’s a hot man that appeared in Layla’s apartment who keeps calling himself an incubus.
»»————- Ink ————-««
Amber fire flickered in his deep-set eyes, which peered through me as if he could read my soul. I dug my toes in to keep from quivering in both fear and exhilaration. My brain wanted me out of there, but my body begged to grab his ass and haul my birthday gift to me.
Ink smiled and raised a single thumb. Was he trying to tell me I was doing a fantastic job? Before I could ask what that meant, he brushed it against my Cupid’s bow and down. My lips parted, a pant building in my lungs, and my tongue tried to slip out like it had intentions of wrapping around his thumb. Or other things.
But his thumb continued lower, the trace of his fingerprint caressing the hollow of my throat and down my sternum. What was he going to do? What did he want?
I glanced up at him, his lips glistening from a powerful breath, and one thought bounced through my brain. Kiss me.
A fist clamped around my hair, yanking the curls down until I was forced to stare up at him. The pull stung but there was no pain, only a tingle ringing through me.
Chuckling in his deep baritone, Ink circled his other hand around my jaw and leaned down. With his forehead pressing to mine, he whispered, “You’re going to be fun.”
His lips overpowered mine. No fumbling, no cautious touch. They moved as if they knew precisely where to be, exactly the right amount of pressure, and his tongue… Fuck, that thing knotted up like a Cirque acrobat. Heat rampaged through me at the taste of him. Smoke on a midnight row across a lake, fog drifting through the dewy morning, the impenetrable darkness of a forest never conquered.