Kisses in the Night
By Mickey M.
A Kiss Ficlet; the first of (hopefully) many to come,
based on different types of kisses as described in "The Art of
Kissing", by William Cane.
Lance is sleeping, or he looks like it, anyway; a slow,
steady rise-and-fall of his chest. You only want a kiss, just a quick taste of
him, of lips, or skin, something to ease you deeper into sweet dreams for the
whole night.
That spot, there. At the base of his throat, the little
hollow spot. You bend forward and lick it gently, then lap at the skin, like a
kitten might at milk, letting the salt-sweet flavor slide over your tongue,
fill your mouth and spread through you. He's not asleep, after all; he wiggles,
a little, and snorts softly when you lap again before pressing your lips there
and nuzzling. Warm arms come up around you, holding you close, and you smile
against Lance's throat when he rumbles, "Chris--"
The sound vibrates through your lips, into you, skating
along nerve endings already sensitive and charged up, and you shudder and lick
again, massaging warm skin with your tongue, resisting the urge --barely -- to
bite and suck. When his arms tighten you bite gently, and he shudders, your
name coming out more as a sigh than a word. He tugs you back up to kiss his
mouth, and the world dissolves around you into a slick glide of tongues and
lips and sweetness.
~fin~