Page 63 of A Taste Of Darkness

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

He nodded, and proudly so. “He’s dead.”

“Remind me to never give you a name ever again.”

“You should’ve known, cuore mio.”

That I should have. “Anyway. Because of what Anthony did, I was just thinking… what if you only find me attractive when—Wait, no. Oh, God. I didn’t want to assume you find me attractive in the first place or anyth?—"

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted. I was kind of glad he interrupted me because I would’ve made a fool of myself if I kept on talking.

My brain must’ve been working overtime because my breath got caught in my lungs when his words made it past his lips, and all I could comprehend were the question marks inside of my mind.

Part of me was screaming at me to ask why. To find out why he rejected me last night only to kiss me this morning. But the other part of me was already nodding.

“Yes, you c?—”

His lips laid on mine before I had the chance to finish my sentence.

Milo’s kiss wasn’t anything like I imagined. He wasn’t possessive or harsh. He kissed me softly, with care, and held every ounce of control.

As his hands slid from my face down my body, grasping me by my waist, my back arched and my chest pressed against his body.

I practically folded right into him, melted, and made myself fit into his body like we were two pieces of a puzzle.

A whimper fell from my lips, and I could feel him smile just before he pushed his tongue into my mouth.

His hips pushed against me, his semi-boner a lot harder now.

I felt a tingle in the pit of my stomach, something exciting.

My lips weren’t virgins, but none of the kisses I shared with someone before were kisses.

This one, oh my lord… I kind of never wanted to stop kissing him ever again.

Suddenly I understood why everyone loved kissing so much. I understood why someone thought kissing wasn’t the closest it could get, that they wanted more.

Holy freak, I wanted more.

I accidentally brushed against the bulge in his pants, making my breath leave my lungs all at once.

I didn’t get to grind up on him again—not sure I would’ve done it either way—because Milo pulled away from my lips.

While I was sure I should’ve looked at him, all I was capable of doing was lean forward and let my face fall right against his chest, silently whining about how he’d ruined me for all of eternity. He’d never know, though.

“You good, cuore mio?” Milo asked, something joyful in his voice. If he thought he was being sneaky about that hint of amusement, he thought wrong. I could hear it clear as day.

“No,” I answered honestly. “You’ve killed me. Please get me a pink tombstone that says: ‘In loving memory of Sterlie Adams. The girl who died because her first kiss was to die for.’”

Milo’s arms came up around me, his shoulders shaking with a sexy laughter that bubbled out of him. “It wasn’t your first kiss, though. So that would be a lie.”

I groaned, sneaking my arms around him as well. “It was our first kiss, so same thing.”

“Ah, so there are more to come, huh?”

I shook my head no, but deep down—not even that deep to be honest—inside of me, I was begging myself otherwise.

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