This was as new and fresh as the cold air rushing around us, everything I’d imagined it could be but cleaned of all the problems that had been holding us back. His lips twisted and sought and I opened, sighing into his mouth as his tongue found mine. His hands swept up my body, all the way from my hips to my neck. Then they buried themselves in my hair, sliding through the strands and stroking the nape of my neck in a way that made me gasp and arch my back. My breasts crushed against his chest—God, just as hard and hugely broad as I’d imagined it. We were both still so hot that every contact of our bodies—every scrape of my nipples against his iron pecs, every brush of his rippled abs against my stomach—sent ripples of fire through me, soaking down to my groin. I’d tilted my head up to meet his kiss because, even with me sitting atop him, he was still taller than me. So I was panting up into his mouth when he twisted his hands, fingers pointing down my spine, and slid them all the way down the arch of my back to my ass.
