“Frickin' hit me with the speeding car, now. Take away my intense craving to force myself against him and taste his lips.”

Gretchen de la O

Gretchen de la O - “Frickin' hit me with the speeding...” 1

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“He grabs me suddenly and yanks me up against him, one hand at my back holding me to him and the other fisting in my hair."You're one challenging woman," He kisses me, forcing my lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners. "It's taking all my self-control not to fuck you on the hood of this car, just to show you that you're mine, and if I want to buy you a fucking car, I'll buy you a fucking car," he growls.”

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“I crave your lips.” His breath was sweet. “Give me but one taste and I shall ask no more.”

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“I kissed him, trying to bring him back. I kissed him and let my lips rest against his so that our breath mingled and the tears from my eyes became salt on his skin, and I told myself that, somewhere, tiny particles of him would become tiny particles of me, ingested, swallowed, alive, perpetual. I wanted to press every bit of me against him. I wanted to will something into him. I wanted to give him every bit of life I felt and force him to live.”

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“He tasted deeper, holding himself over me, and suddenly he was everywhere; his knee trapping my leg, his lips grazing warm, rough, sensuous. He splayed his hand at the small of my back, holding me tightly, driving me to sink my fingers deeper into him, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing part of myself.”

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