Fancy a Blissekiss?
What on earth is a Blissekiss, I hear you say! Well, it is the brainchild of Victoria Blisse and is basically a HUGE Sunday Snog in honour of Valentine’s Day. Everyone taking part is posting a kissing excerpt or entire story, and also including a giveaway. My contribution, as well as a piece of flash fiction on the Blissekiss site, is an excerpt from my erotic romance short story, Loose Ends. So please feel free to enjoy my sweet and sexy excerpt, then check out the Rafflecopter at the bottom of the post to find out how to enter my giveaway! Then, of course, you’ll want to head back to the Blissekiss site to see who else is taking part so you can enter to win lots more cool prizes.
His next move took me completely by surprise. Downing the rest of his drink and putting his empty glass on the table, he said, “May I have this dance?”
Given the song was cheesy Pop—it wasn’t as romantic as it sounded. Still, I wasn’t going to waste either opportunity—to dance to my favourite song and to potentially cop a feel. So, I finished my own drink and took his proffered hand.
This was no romantic slow dance, as we weren’t even touching. But after a couple of minutes of bopping around, we both fell foul to the stupidity of what we were doing and laughed. I was almost doubled over at one point, and when I looked back up, my mirth instantly disappeared.
Jonathan was looking at me with such a serious expression that I thought something was wrong.
He said nothing, grabbing my hands and pulling me to him. My blood was already thundering through my veins as a result of the attempted dancing and subsequent giggling, so it was a wonder the sudden proximity didn’t make me explode.
“I still want you, you know.”
Then he kissed me. There was no messing around (well, apart from the previous eight years, of course). He just leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. Without a thought about public displays of affection, I slipped my arms around his waist and kissed him back, opening my mouth to admit his tongue.
It was incredible. The culmination of eight years of sexual tension and unexplored feelings. I felt my pussy juices dampening my thong, and Jonathan’s cock pressed insistently against my stomach. If I’d been someone else looking at us, I’d have told us to “get a room.”
After a few seconds, I became horribly self-aware of the fact other people were probably thinking just that. I pulled away from the kiss, then stood on tiptoes to reach Jonathan’s ear.
“Is everyone staring at us?” I didn’t dare look around and see if anyone was giving us disapproving glares.
“No,” he replied with his arms still encircling my waist. “I don’t think anybody noticed.”
“Phew. I had visions of people shouting at us to get a room.”
I laughed, then stopped abruptly when he said, “Well, why don’t we?”
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