It was Karl's first kiss.
He had expected himself to be awkward and clumsy, yet everything unfolded more smoothly than he could have imagined.
He remembered reading somewhere that instinct was a man's greatest teacher in matters of intimacy.
Now he understood—the taste of kissing the woman he liked was… intoxicating.
His entire body felt aflame, blood rushing to one place, straining and swelling with unbearable intensity. He kissed her with such heat, yet the woman beneath him only stirred slightly at first, pushing him away with sleepy resistance, before succumbing to the deep intoxication of her wine-dulled senses.
Karl sat up at the edge of the sofa, letting out a slow breath to steady himself.
Looking at her soft, slumbering figure, he curved his lips into a smile, a mixture of regret and relief flickering through him.
