WESTLEY

MY HEART raced with anticipation of what he was about to do. I could not deny that I dreamed of kissing Clyve, and it was happening.

Clyve lowered his head and pressed his lips against mine. They were incredibly soft than any man I’d kissed before. I parted my lips as an invitation. I could feel Clyve was trying hard to take it slow as he was expecting that I would push him away.

But I would never damn try even I knew this was wrong.

I let him brush his lips against mine, teasing me, then I coaxed to kiss him, parting more to beckon.

A guttural groan...