Page 145 of Ryan
“Shh,” I place my finger against her lips. “Please, don’t say anything. Otherwise I can’t do it.”
“Do what?” she asks. I can see that my blabbering monologue is starting to scare her.
“This,” I say, taking her face between my hands. “I just wanted this,” I continue, before placing my lips on hers.
Christine is shocked, her eyes wide, her arms hanging by her sides.
I seek out her lips with mine, scared and desperate – because I know how this is going to end. I know what this will cause us.
But I’m ready to fall to pieces.
I taste her lips, taking them breathlessly between my own. She’s giving me all the oxygen I need to feed my lungs, my brain – my heart.
I slide my hand slowly to the back of her neck and pull her in to me. Her body is against mine, the heat of her desire and of something else – something absurd, something irrational – which is pulsing through every heartbeat. It’s something I’ve denied myself for so long. Something I’ve denied her.
Christine parts her lips, and I let her taste take over me. It drugs me. I’m addicted.
My mind, my whole body gives in to her.
My heart gives in to her.
I give in to her hands, her mouth, her breathing. Her taste, her scent, her sweetness.
I simply give in to her.
Her hands slide down my face, caressing me timidly. Excitement hammers through my chest, almost making me lose my senses.
It’s like I’m drowning, unable to resurface, shipwrecked by the storm of emotion in my chest. But, for some strange reason, I’m not scared.
I feel fuckingsafe.
I feel likeme.
Christine nibbles my lip with her teeth, sliding her tongue into my mouth, before suddenly pulling back and looking me in the eyes.
I gasp.
It’s just a fucking kiss.
She steps away from me, but I grab her waist and pull her back towards me. She wraps her arms around my neck as I delve my tongue into her mouth again, taking her breath away before giving it back to her, just as she’s doing to me.
Kissing Christine is like falling down and getting back up again a hundred times – and every time you get on your feet again, you feel stronger.
Kissing Christine is learning to breathe again. Like opening your eyes for the first time and seeing the world around you in a different light. Learning to distinguish colours and sounds, with the warmest shades and sweetest melodies.
Kissing Christine is learning to live again.
I pull away from her with a heavy heart, leaning my forehead against hers. I’m already getting withdrawal symptoms.
“Holy shit,” I say without thinking, making her burst out laughing. “I swear that was a compliment.”
She laughs again, her hands stroking my beard.
“Do you want to come in?” she asks, chewing on her swollen lip.
“Only if you promise to do that all night.”
She looks at me, confused.
“I want you to kiss me all night, Christine. I want you to give me back all the kisses I wouldn’t give you before. All the kisses you wanted, I want you to give them to me. And I don’t want to miss a single one. Is that okay?” I ask her, terrified of my own words and of what they mean.
She looks at me tenderly, smiling as if she knows she’s already won.
“Yes, Ryan. I really, really want to.”
