Kenton’s hands began at her waist, holding her kindly for a moment as his lips adjusted to the foreign placement of her own. For years, he had recalled how the novice borders of her mouth would feel now with confidence, and he was learning how she no longer trembled or stiffened to his kiss. Instead, she seemed softly eager with this battle for dominance. His fingers slowly rose until his secondary hand captured her waist and the second danced upwards her spine until finalizing at the base of her skull. Using the tips of his digits, he was able to angle her as he saw fit, while he walked her into the direction of the couch that he sat at solely not even five minutes prior.
The backs of her calves came to meet with the tan couch as he refused to make another movement without her consent,
