𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡

Ch.31 - The Kiss, Run & Forget

Ricky Sanchez.

That was the name of the boy I'd had my first kiss with. A secret, shy, and adorably awkward kiss shared between two crushing 7th graders behind the buses during a field trip to an art museum. I was giddy, full of butterflies and moderately terrified as my mind raced around the world and back. It was sweet. Innocent. Safe.

It was not this.

Instead of fluttering butterflies, It felt as if the earth under me was vibrating. Like the world around us erupted in a have of sparks, shocks, and explosions. I probably couldn't think up a complete sentence if my life depended on it. There was only the soft yet firm pressure of the lips in contact with mine. Kissing.

Dean's hand was tempered steel behind my neck, holding firm while massaging the scar there without shame. Like he wanted me to accept that he knew it was there. The other was slowly creeping down the side of my body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I whimpered as I tried in vain to pull away, to push him away, but the formidable male was far too much to handle. As he stepped closer and angled my head upwards to accommodate his height, I suddenly forgot how to protest.

Ever so slowly, beyond any reasonable consideration.....my eyes shut.

That wandering hand snaked against the low curve of my back, a large palm securing me closer. The pressure against my lips increased, and slowly our mouths opened more to each other. Tasting.

Whiskey and mint.

He tasted like the essence of who he was. Strong and bold, cold and slightly toxic. Yet, somehow still there was warmth. A strange vibrancy of comforting warmth that was creeping deep into my bones.

Teeth scraped against my bottom lip, a sharp tug on the sensitive skin causing me to whimper again. He didn't mind though, as he continued his mission with a gentle, well-contained fury.

My head.

My heart.

My scattered brain was losing any real sense of thought. My poor unsteady heart was getting too close to beating its way out of my small, electrified, body.

Not real. Wasn't happening....couldn't be. Except, that freakishly innate sense of my thoughts he always seemed to possess was determined to prove me wrong.

The kiss suddenly deepened.

With the tip of a tongue even softer than his lips, he traced the inner rim of the same lip of mine he'd nibbled, giving me goosebumps as he asked permission for something I wasn't giving. Something unreal to me.

A small gasp escaped as I was bitten a second time, harsher now as if he was demanding me to give him just enough space to dive in like he wished. And suddenly like an obedient little schoolgirl, I did, my mouth suddenly tasting much more of the drugging whiskey and mint, as his body molded closer with mine. Devouring.

A deep guttural moan escaped Dean's mouth as I became more pliant to him as if my compliance was his drug. Our mouths' were now moving in perfect sync. I gripped onto his forearms, having no clue what to do with myself and hoping they'd keep me grounded.

I'm not....cannot......Can't think.

A sudden need to breathe emerged welcomed yet intrusive at the same time. An excuse to pull away. Just a second long enough to think.

My eyes snapped open as I regained my senses, seeing the face that was so devastatingly close to mine. I ripped away from him, our disconnecting mouths creating a low, embarrassingly audible smack. They didn't stray far, however, as my panting was accompanied by Dean's own breathing just centimeters away. I could feel the heated breath on my face.....that sweet yet burning smell of alcohol wafting under my nose.