For Cupid’s Literary Connection: Kissing Scene Competition. Little prologue by popular demand. Natalie is a 16 year old runaway, hiding from the law in NYC. Dominick is a NYC patrolman with a black and white idea of justice/right/wrong. After being mugged, where Natalie was warned to stay away from Dom or their attackers would kill him, their emotions are heightened and passion takes hold.
“And what if you don’t like what you find out? What if what you hear makes you run?” she asked with the last of her common sense. Natalie’s arms tightened around his neck, holding him close.
“As long as it’s the truth, I’m not going anywhere.” Dom sealed his promise with a kiss.
Common sense and fight gave way to the all-consuming need of desire that rushed through Natalie’s body. A tentative brush of lips meeting for the first time quickly grew to an over-powering need to explore this new territory. He does taste just as sweet, the cohesive thought managed to surface among the sea of emotions. He parted his lips easily for her begging tongue and she was rewarded with his very essence.
Dissolving into the sensation of his tongue against hers, Natalie barely noticed their unsteady steps to the couch. Dom pulled her down against him, his hands continued to hold her close as if she were the glass that held his entire world within it.
Natalie straddled him, her hands embolden by the heady intoxication of what they were doing and how much more she wanted to do. She lifted his shirt and her hands came into contact with his abdomen, careful of his tender ribs. She knew he had an athletic build from the grimy t-shirts he wore on laundry day, but to feel the physical results of his occupation was another matter. She became even more brazened as his muscles shivered and relaxed at her fingertips.
“Natalie,” he moaned. One of his hands lifted her shirt, giving it access to thrumming skin. His other hand entwined itself within her hair, holding her close; a fruitless effort. There was nowhere she’d rather be than on his lap devouring his lips. Barely conscious of her actions, she arched her back against his hand, gyrating slightly on his confining jeans.
“Jesus, Natalie,” he groaned. He tugged gently on her lower lip and she whimpered, before he comforted her with another kiss.