“Why are you looking at me like that?"Like I want to push you to the floor and lick every inch of your pretty skin? Can't imagine.”

“I want to kiss every inch of you. Then I want to lick every inch. And touch. Then suck. Then fuck. Every inch.”

“Stuff like looking me over as if you wanna lick every square inch of me and then blushing about it. It's taking every bit of willpower I have and then some not to come over there and kiss you.”

“What does it feel like to be infected?""I-- I can't describe it." I force the words out. Can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe. His skin smells like smoke from a wood fire, like soap, like heaven. I imagine tasting his skin; I imagine biting his lips. "I want to know." His words are a whisper, barely audible. "I want to know with you.”

“I want to kiss every inch of you," he murmured and ground his cock against her mound. "Then I want to lick every inch. And touch. Then suck. Then fuck." He gave her hair a hard tug. "Every inch.”

“A re you going to kiss me now or what?” I finally blurted out.“No,” he said.“Then why is your face like two inches away from mine?” I asked.“I just like to look at you,” he said seriously. “I want to look at you.” His expression was almost pained.”