MIKO
Jude's pupils are so dilated, his skin almost glowing under the candlelight as I hover above him.
He licks his lips, those eyelashes fluttering before looking at my lips, which are inches away from his.
I am drunk on him.
"Eat me up," he whispers, red, slightly swollen lips slick with spit from our stolen kisses. He cups my cheek, smiling at me that little smile of his that is enough to convince me to drive off a cliff if he asked me.
I don't need him to tell me twice. Fuck the wait. Fuck all the things, really, because none of it matters once I taste him. The wine still clinging onto his tongue, the way his hot mouth is wet from his saliva, as I plunge my tongue so deep inside his mouth, down his throat until I feel him almost gag.
It's nothing like our initial kisses. Those were soft, innocent, and shy. This is nothing like those. This is filthy, fucking his mouth with my tongue until I hit the back of his throat and he opens his mouth wider, letting me in deeper.
