Crash
She was finally in my arms, finally had my lips on hers. The impossible was happening. She whimpered and clung to me, and I clung back. Letting my hands slide into her hair, my tongue tease hers, my skin felt too tight. The need was desperate to touch her everywhere, to be wherever—over her, on her, in her—but I knew I had to step so carefully.
"Crash," she sighed my name and the noise that erupted from my throat would have been embarrassing if it weren't for her.
Hands sliding down her sides, I leaned in and over her, taking us both back onto the couch, one hand down to brace her, while I clung with the other. She gripped my shoulders and pulled me down on top of her and I wanted to weep with relief.
