I tripped over the cat when I entered my dark apartment with you close behind me, your hand possessively on the small of my back. Hubert, my Siamese, hissed and dashed from the room, casting one haughty, betrayed look back before disappearing into another room. I shook my head and moved to reach for a little lamp I had on a secretary desk by the front door.
You grabbed my hand. “No. I like it dark. And I wanna kiss you. I’ve been dying to kiss you. All night.” You pulled me close and your kiss was rough. Your mouth pressed into mine hard enough to hurt and your tongue didn’t just probe my mouth, it invaded it.
Normally, I might have put a hand to your chest to get you to slow down, but I was loving this, loving this feeling of being an object of sheer and absolute hunger. Like you were a
