Free Sweet Backlash by Violet Heart

alright?"
    "Kiss me first." He had to taste those
luscious lips.
    She lay on her side and propped her
head on her hand. "I'd rather not."
    "Why? My breath shouldn't stink. I
brushed my teeth. I go to the dentist regularly." Was he
repulsive?
    "I think you have very nice teeth,"
she said. "And no, your breath doesn't stink. I'm just not into
kissing."
    What kind of answer was that? "Not
into kissing? Who have you been doing it with? Can't be with anyone
who knows what he's doing. Give me a chance. Let me show you what
kissing is about."
    "Sure of yourself, aren't you?" She
poked him playfully in the shoulder.
    "All I'm saying is that kissing is
fun. And when done right, it's sexy as hell." He stared at her
lips, hoping she'd lean in and let him show her the proof behind
his words.
    "No thanks. If your kiss last night at
the society meeting is any indication of your idea of fun, I'll
pass."
    Groaning, he rolled his eyes. "I was a
jerk and I'm sorry. I've never treated a woman like that. I don't
know why I got so aggressive with you. That's not who I
am."
    "Who are you then?" Her gaze went to
his flaccid johnson, which tried to stir but didn't quite have it
together yet. She reached down and cradled it in her fingers. "It's
amazing, something so soft can get so big and hard."
    Big and hard. That's right,
baby. Damn it, his ego would get him in trouble if he didn't
knock it off. "Come on," he urged. "Kiss me. Just once."
    She gave him a skeptical sideways
glance. Then she conceded. "Okay. Just once."
     

Chapter 10
     
    Melony resisted his appeal. Even
trussed in her pretty ropes, Chip exuded a power, an attraction she
found hard to ignore. The way he stared at her mouth made her yearn
for his kiss. His look of desire manifested as a touch deep inside,
as if he reached in and stirred her passion.
    She wanted to kiss him. More, she
wanted him to kiss her. This session had less to do with wants than
establishing rules of give and take. Who was she trying to kid? She
may have come into play with that in mind, but the moment she let
him break the rule of touching without punishment, anything other
than pleasure escaped her intent. When he had sent a bold finger
into her slit… Oh, God.
    She closed her eyes. What was it that
made him so different from every other man? Why did she ache for
his touch when the idea of any other man touching her made her want
to do violence. Why did she care about his pleasure?
    "Kiss me," he said.
    No. If she believed in magic, she
might think he'd put a spell on her. The aura of safety around him
had lulled her into a false sense of security. She couldn't trust
it. She wanted not to trust him.
    Against her will, she did, though.
Gazing into his eyes, she discovered something indefinable,
unrecognizable, yet alluring. She silently pleaded for him to ask
her one more time.
    As if seeing the asking in her eyes,
he said, "Please, Melony."
    Yes. Stretching out alongside him, she
suspended her face above his for a moment to soak in that special
something in his stare. When her lips touched his, the contact
instantly catapulted her to another dimension—one where she had no
past, no dark and twisty demons, no hesitation. Where she had no
future, no doubts, no fears. All she had was the moment, with him,
in bliss.
    His lips, though firm, had no hardness
against hers. Everything had give, including the ropes between them
that rubbed against her exposed nipples and brought them to keen
attention. Slanting her face, she settled deeper into the kiss, her
nostrils a hair's breadth from his cheek. She inhaled a mixture of
minty toothpaste, deodorant soap, and a spicy, heavy scent she
suspected belonged only to him. It intoxicated her, creating a
thirst for more.
    Running a hand along his jaw, she
delighted in the thick stubble that made her palm tingle. She
combed her fingers into his hair, noting its thickness, surprising
softness, and the damp still clinging after his shower. His lips
moved against hers and she