“He flipped her on her back and she squeaked.“I want to see you.” And he kissed her, tasting like darkest sin, like double chocolate without insulin, like pure malt whisky injected into her bloodstream.”
“I kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her. I try not to bite her lip. She tastes like vodkahoney.”
“He kissed her like he was going off to war. And she kissed him back like it was true.”
“Her perfume enveloped him as he reached for her. His hands smoothed over soft fabric before finding the warmth of her skin. She lifted her mouth to his and kissed him hungrily, greedily. She tasted so good. Like sin. Like every dirty thought he’d ever had.”
“He had kissed her good night that night, and she had tasted like strawberry daiquiris, and he had never wanted to kiss anyone else again.”
“Then he kissed her without breathing, without thinking. He kissed her until his entire body was tingling from the taste of her.”