His Kiss - InkSpot.Com

About This Author

I am a 40 year old married mother of two teenage boys. I live for writing, especially romance. Love the happily ever after scenerio. The best thing about writing for me is the ability to lose yourself in your work, and feel as if you've accomplished something great. At the end of the day, that's all that really matters.

His Kiss

I love his hands, the way his caress always makes my heart skip a beat as my breathing hitches, setting my heart racing at a phenomenal speed. He has magic hands, hands that know exactly where to touch me and when, hands that could calm my every fear and ignite my wildest desires, turning me into putty instantly. I could easily linger beneath their warmth, let life pass me right on by when I feel those hands touch me, rest upon my cheek, catapulting me into the unknown. Just thinking about his touch is enough to set my thoughts in motion, focusing solely on him, which only leads me to reflect on something else that grabs my attention—his mouth.

Oh my! There is no way to adequately describe what the feel of his mouth upon mine does to me, try as I might. I go into orbit; lose all sense of time because suddenly, time stands still as if no one else exists in the world, save the two of us. I still wonder how that is possible because it defies logic. My mind always has a way of intruding upon my heart, the exquisite sensations he is able to stir deep within me, which leaves me questioning things and I tend to pull away from him. I hate that, hate that logic intrudes on these precious moments of my life when my heart is screaming for me to surrender to all that I have found in him.

I have sat around so often lately, thinking back to the moments we have shared together, wondering what will happen next with us, where it will take me, if I can even get any higher than we have already gone together. What I find truly astounding is that the answer to all of the incessant questions is I know there is more. How can that be? How can this man know me so intimately, right to the depths of my very being? I often wonder if he read the handbook to my life cover to cover and back again, using it to ensure I would be his perfect match for all eternity. I know how crazy this sounds, but that is just how we are together. I see him standing before me, and every part of me aches to melt into all that he is, to let him encompass every part of me and drift so far away from the here and now. I have tried to explain this to friends and family, but no one understands. Can this type of love, these overwhelming emotions and sensations really manifest and become reality?

Of course, I want to shout yes from the highest rooftop, but when I look around me, see the relationships that have helped shape my life, I admittedly would have to say no, this type of enchantment does not exist. Yet that rationale quickly subsides when we are in proximity of one another. I cannot deny the overpowering pull that brings me to my feet when he walks through the door, that urge to launch myself at him, into those awaiting arms that embrace me so tight that I know I’ve just come home. He is my home in every sense of the word, my comfort zone, the place where I don’t have to hide, or pretend, where I can be myself and flourish.

Taking a long strand of my curly, dark hair, I twirl it around my finger, and he arrives home from work early, that hypnotizing smile enveloping his handsome face as our eyes meet. One heated glance has me melting like butter under his mischievous gaze, causing an immediate blush to rise upon my skin, compelling me to look away. In that minute, there is only one thing I desire, one thing that will do, one thing that I must have. Just watching him close the distance between us makes my heart stop as I feast my eyes on his mouth, and I hunger for a taste. My heartbeat is so loud with him only a few inches away that it drowns out every other sound in this house. I cannot move, as if I am cemented in place waiting for my love to come and sweep into that dreamy paradise that I can never get enough.

His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip making me tremble because I know what’s to come, and I long for that. Before I can gather my thoughts or take a deep breath, his mouth lowers, hovering above mine, making me wait for his kiss. He always does this, takes his time, making every second we are together count, like this could very well be our last moment together. I used to hate that, but I’ve come to realize that I love it now. I love that he prepares for these sweet kisses, that he still needs to know that he has this powerful effect on me after years of being together.

When our mouths finally meet, the world shifts on its axis and my knees grow weak. This man I have fallen so completely in love with never rushes anything when it comes to me, instead he ensures that I am aware I am the most important person in his world, just as he knows he is mine. We fit together perfectly, like we were made for one another, and as the warmth from his mouth travels through me, I melt into all that he is, welcoming him home, losing myself to this exquisite love I believe with every part of my being we will forever share.

WC:944

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