Page 14 of Kiss Me Again

She nods silently, and her hands finally fall to her sides.

I lean lower and press my mouth to her lips, swollen from being bitten, moving my body closer and pressing her harder.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MIA

He is kissing me. I can't believe it. Ben is kissing me, and I respond to his kiss, placing my arms on his chest and getting on my tiptoes because he is tall.

I swore that if he tried to kiss me again, I would push him away. I would never let him do this again; I can't let him break my heart into pieces.

And here I am, standing in his arms with my body pressed tightly to his and my fingers digging into his T-shirt as I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss.

The first time we kissed, it was passionate, fast, and hungry, as if it had taken him a long time to decide to do it.

This time, Ben doesn't rush. Even though he’s holding me firmly in his arms, he touches me gently, as if he's afraid to scare me away.

Ben's palm is still on my neck, and he moves my head slightly to the side for a better angle as his tongue penetrates my mouth. I moan at how good it feels; the warmth spreads over my body, concentrating on my abdomen.

I can't believe this is happening. Moreover, I can't believe this kiss is even better than the first. I thought that first kiss was so unbelievably good because it was my first time, and Ben had nothing to do with it; at least, that's what I tried to tell myself. But this time...this time is ten times better.

No, a hundred times: He sucks on my lower lip and then the upper, biting gently and penetrating my mouth with his tongue again as his hands explore my body, brushing over my waist and back.

I moan into his mouth, unable to hold it in, and Ben pulls away rapidly, breathing heavily as he looks at me from above, still holding me in his arms.

"If I don't stop now, then I won't be able to stop...ever," he says, gasping for air, looking at me as if he...regrets kissing me?

No, please, not again...

"Do you regret this kiss?" I ask right away. I can't believe I was stupid enough to get into the same trap.

"No, princess, no." He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around my body and pressing me closer to him. "I just don't wantyouto regret it later." He presses his forehead to mine and exhales loudly. "I don't want you to wake up one day and regret that you had your first time with a person you didn't want to have it, you know?"

Oh, I know. But that isn't the point here. Because the only person I always dreamed of taking my virginity is him: this guy standing against me, making my whole body shudder and my insides melt.

"Why rush? You just turned eighteen," he continues, and a wave of anxiety covers me again, precisely the way it did when he asked me about it the first time.

"I...don't want to talk about it." My voice is trembling.

Ben pulls away to look into my eyes, but I avoid his gaze.

"Hey, princess"—he takes my chin between his fingers and pulls my head higher to make me look into his eyes—"you can tell me anything. I would never betray your trust; you should know that."

I do know that. Through all these years, I had thousands of little secrets I didn't want anyone to know, even Diana, and some were not that small. Whenever Ben found out about one of them, he tried to help me solve the problem and kept it secret.

"I just..." I look down. I can't lower my head because Ben is holding my chin, but I still can't force myself to look into his eyes. "I'm embarrassed."

Instead of pushing me as I thought he would do (at least that's what Di would do), Ben presses my face into his chest for a hug.

I exhale loudly as if a burden just fell from my shoulders. It feels so good to hug him, touch him, smell him...

And then he pulls away and moves around behind my back, wrapping his arms around my body from behind.

"Do you remember when you broke my bike in the seventh grade, and you were so afraid to tell me that you asked me to turn my back to you so I couldn't look into your eyes?" he whispers into my ear, and my body breaks out in goosebumps when I feel his breath on my skin.

Of course, I remember. I was terrified to tell him because it was an expensive bike he’d wanted so much and finally received on Christmas. I begged him to give it to me to ride. And he did. And on the very first ride, I broke it. I was devastated, and I waited until the very last minute to confess. Even then, I couldn't do it with him looking into my eyes with that trusting gaze.

He trusted me with his gift, and I betrayed him... I thought so then, and it sounds stupid now, but it wasn't like that when I was twelve; it seemed like my life was over.

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