YOU COULD BE MY MEAL

As our hands and tongues dance in matching paces to the rhythm of our uncontrollably burning desires, our bodies resting tightly against each other like they want to be two in one, I realize that I can't deny it anymore. I cannot deny what I feel—what we feel. There is a strong connection between us. I know there is, and it's not one-sided. I can feel it. He feels that too. It is there. It is so strongly dominant. It can't be assumed, avoided, or denied. But what is it? Lust? Obsession? Or love?

The shortness of breath due to that savage kissing makes us long for a break, and we pull away, panting heavily. We take in the fresh air mixed with the scent of our cologne until we are stable. I rest my forehead on his, my eyes boring into his. I wish I could know what he really wants from me. I would be willing to give him anything.

"Is this our supposed dinner?" I force the words out, tracing his jaw with one hand while the other one keeps track of his loud and fast heartbeats.

"Would you complain if it were?" His heavy, breathy voice comes as a whisper—a charming whisper for my scattered brain. I engage him in another kissing session, this time not a savage or wild kiss. I make it slow but intense, and I manage to pull myself up to sit on him, my legs resting on both sides of his thighs. Now this is wild, but since he seems to like it, I continue exploring his mouth, him not lurking behind. He taught me this, and I know I can't be an expert like him, but I am confident I am doing a great job.

After exploring every part of my back, his hands rest on my bare thighs while we pull away. I can kiss him the whole night, given a chance, and I know he won't get tired either. We can also spend the night in this car if I care, and I won't complain.

"I see why you turned down my offer for the kissing remedials." He says it after a while. I am tempted to think that I am more obsessed with this guy than I am in love. Why do I seem fascinated by everything about him? I have heard that everyone has flaws, but why can't I seem to see even just one of his? Why is he so perfect in all aspects? Is this normal? Am I normal?

"I can learn that without necessarily making you my teacher." I respond, smirking at him, and he smiles broadly.

"Literally, you are learning from me still. I should charge you." He says.

"That was a free service, as far as I remember." I state.

"Well, the deal has changed, sweetheart. Because I feel like you wanted to outsmart me. That is not good." Underline the word sweetheart. Write it in capital letters and also in italic form. Don't forget to make every single letter of it bold. Sweetheart? I am sure he can tell my heart skipped several beats at the mention of that word.

"You know what? Let's have that dinner now because I am so damn hungry." I try to get off him, but he presses me down on him. I snap at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't get to stand until I say so." He says, pressing my butt to his bulge, which I found soothing. Huh? Why? Ah, oh, oh! I blush, and I try to cover the blush with a very stupid smile that instead makes me look like an idiot.

"Does it hurt?" I know I sound so dumb right now. I mean, at this era, at twenty-two, I should be an expert in these things, right? Yeah! I know so. The devilish smirk on his face says so.

"No. It'll behave soon. Just don't move too much or anything else.

"Else what?" I ask.

"You might turn out to be my meal instead." Oh,yeah? God! Can he stop making such jokes? It's not funny at all for my naughty thoughts. Especially if he looks like he is serious about that. His meal, huh? I am trying to imagine him devouring me. Damn! The first was mind-boggling. I still remember every single moment of that slow-burn night. My!

We stand in front of the beautiful Azzua hotel after minutes of dirty chit-chat in the car. He has a very dark side to talking dirty that I didn't know existed in him, and it's a wild turn-on for me. Don't get me wrong. Nothing happened back there, but I had to seriously control myself. I am wearing his denim on top of my short dress. It's even longer than my dress. We are ushered in by one attendant, and we walk in. It's quiet. Damn quiet!

"Greetings, Mr. Moore!" Another attendant greets. "Miss, hi!" We answer the greetings together.

"Everything set?" Deep asks.

What everything?

"Yes, sir! Everything is all set. Please call me in case you need something." She bows slightly, and Deep nods his head slightly. He looks at me and then pulls me along with him to the lift. In my confused state, words have been stuck in my throat. I have so much to ask, but words are not coming out.

The lift stops at the twelfth floor, and he leads me out. We walk side by side along a corridor with huge doors until the furthest corner on the right. He opens the door, motioning for me to get in first. I set one foot inside reluctantly, still not looking inside, and when I do, my heart stops, and it's now my turn for my jaw to drop on the floor with amazement.

I am trying to breathe, but I just can't. I am nearing tears as my heart throbs with rebounds of glee and shock, while my eyes dive further inside.

"Deep."