Page 8 of Art of Love
The kiss turned hungry and primal when we really got going. I could no longer control myself. I wanted her. I wanted her badly. To the point where I ached.
My hands roamed from her waist up to her left breast, and I squeezed.
No one could see because that was the side that faced me. She moaned into my mouth and pulled back, so she could look down at my fingers circling the hard nipple.
“God, that feels so good.”
“Do you want to get out of here?” We needed to. I’d gotten to that point where I was ready to rip her clothes off.
“Mmmm hmmm, let’s take the wine with us.”
I grabbed the bottle as she hopped off my lap, then I grabbed her.
Time for some fun. Some well-deserved fun.
Chapter 3
Jia
***
The weight of warmhands pressed against the bare skin of my back.
My head...
Why did my head feel like it was on fire? Maybe that was what it was. My head and my back with the burning sensation.
But I was sure the weight on my back felt more like a hand.
I didn’t know.
When the bed moved, I snapped my eyes open and found myself staring at the Japanese character for love. A tattoo...
A dark, inky black tattoo over the rigid peak of a man’s chest.
What?
