Kit:
Kit may have kissed P’Kim over a hundred times by now, and yet, each time felt like the first.
P’Kim was by no means gentle tonight; he moved his mouth against Kit’s in a nearly obsessive manner, rough and greedy. “You owe me a lot tonight,” P’Kim breathed out when he broke off the kiss. “I almost died from worry.”
“Let me make it up to you, then.” Kit whispered seductively as he slowly took off his shirt, and P’Kim’s hands immediately went to pinch his tiny nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine.
And then his lips were back on P’Kim’s awaiting lips, his hands on his nape, tangling in the hair at the back of his head.
