He moved his thumb under my chin and lifted it slightly so I was looking into his eyes. His stare was intense once again and my breath caught in my throat. The reaction from the dual-cutting must have remained with me because in that moment, I wanted to kiss him. I had never felt like that before.
Without a word, he lowered his lips to mine. I’ve kissed a lot of boys in my lifetime, but none compared to that moment. The earlier contentment was quickly replaced by a rush of intense heat and longing.
He tugged on my lower lip, his warm breath mixing with mine. I pushed myself up so I could touch his face. My thumb traced along his cheekbone where he got hurt earlier and then around to the back of his neck.
“Chris will kill us if she finds us,” I murmured.
“I’ll see her headlamp before she gets here,” he said, rotating us slightly so he was facing the campfire in the distance. His lips crushed against mine more urgently and I responded automatically, pushing myself closer to him. He grabbed my legs and moved my knees so I was straddling him. A soft moan escaped my lips and I felt him smile in response.
His hands trailed down my back and then under my shirt. I shivered as they made their way to the front, tracing delicate patterns, but then he stopped. His movement became more focused as his hands ran in straight lines across my belly. He was feeling the scars there.
“Anywhere else?” he asked.
He lifted the edge of my shirt and lowered his lips to one of the more recent cuts below my belly button. My back arched in response to his touch. Never before had one kiss had such an effect on me.
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