The elevator door opens directly into the suite, but I can’t summon the willpower to stop kissing Lia and step off. I can’t believe it—this is the first time I’ve kissed her with tongue. I didn’t realize before that my hands were touching, our bodies rubbing, even our lips pressing. But we haven’t kissed properly, wetly, until now. It’s a practice for young people. Children. At least that’s what I thought before.

Now, I’m not sure how I’ve survived a single day without her whimpering mouth opening up for mine, offering her tongue like a sacrifice. Our height difference puts her much lower than me, so her head is tipped...