Wicked
Emma Starletto, Codey Steele Pic(s)
The familiar scent of his cologne, a warm blend of sandalwood and spice, filled the space between them as her fingers traced the line of his jaw, a gesture that had always been platonic until this very second. Her heart hammered agat her ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the unspoken desire that had simmered for years, finally boiling over. His hand, large and sure, settled on the small of her back, pulling her closer until she could feel the solid warmth of his chest through the thin fabric of her blouse. A soft sigh escaped her lips as he leaned in, his breath a ghost of a caress agat her skin before his mouth found hers in a kiss that was both tentative and devastatingly sure. It was a slow, deep exploration, a tasting of forbidden fruit that was sweeter than any fantasy she had ever allowed herself. His tongue met hers, a languid dance that spoke of deep knowing, of a friendship so intimate it could only transform into this raw, consuming hunger. She melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle in the thick silk of his hair, anchoring herself as the world outside their embrace simply ceased to exist. Every nerve ending awoke, electrified by the press of his body, the possessive slide of his palm down her spine, the low groan rumbling in his throat that was for her alone. In that suspended moment, there was only the shared heat, the frantic beat of two hearts syncing, and the profound rightness of a connection finally, completely, and utterly consummated.
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