His lips latched onto mine like he did not want to hear anything from me.
And without hesitation, I returned it with the same intensity.
I tasted metal from his bloodied lips, yet I did not want to stop drinking him in.
It felt intoxicating, the way his hand pulled me closer, and I clung to his neck as if there was no room left to talk about what had just happened.
My eyes fluttered shut as his tongue moved against mine, and derangedly, I felt like every part of him belonged to my sense of comfort.
Even the throbbing pain in my shoulder, which jolted me now and then, slowly twisted into something like pleasure.
Had my brain short-circuited?
Had my nerves broken?
How could I even think that letting him ravage me could ease all the pain in my body?
I had lost my cause, and I was glad he was the reason.
Just as I deepened the kiss, tasting the warmth, the wetness, the metallic trace on his lips, he broke it gently and pulled back slightly.
