“I liked the air I was breathing, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with my head,” I assured him with a giggle. “Will you kiss me again?” I flirted sweetly.”

“Once he had me panting for breath he broke the kiss and burried his head in the curve of my neck. "I fucking love you." I giggled. That was a very cage response.”

“He nodded, his forehead fused with mine. "My head fogs when you kiss me like that. I can't think," he murmured."It does?" I grinned. "I like making your head fog." I kissed him again.”

“I love you," I tell him again. "I see that," he laughs, kissing me. "Simple words would have sufficed. You didn't need to knock me down with it." I giggle. "Shut up and kiss me.”

“And then I tasted nothing but his sweet lips, pressed firmly to mine, as I kissed him like it was my job.”

“This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn't startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?”