The kiss started off innocently enough. I trapped him under me, my lips lingering on the corner of his mouth. He remained frozen in his spot and I felt a sliver of disappointment pass through me. I pulled away and looked at his face. His eyes were screwed shut and his fists at his side.
I suddenly understood what he meant when he said it was upsetting when I froze up under his touch. I pulled my palm away from his cheek and guided it to his fist. With a pull, I wound his hand around my waist and pressed my lips on his once again.
It took him a few seconds to understand what I was trying to say. He gripped my waist and pulled me in, kissing me like he was meant to. There were many of them and they were feather-light and wet. They felt like little bug bites with a soft touch instead of a sting or a pinch I had expected. I heard a muffled moan and pried my eyes open.
