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As she shouts at me, the front of her robe slips open a little, revealing the swell of her small, pert breasts as her chest lurches up and down. Her hair’s wild, her eyes red and wide, and her lips are parted and full. She’s a fucking mess, but she’s never looked more perfect to me than she does in this moment.
Carrigan is a beautiful woman all the time, she’s stunning in a school uniform, in her usual tight dresses and adorned in evening wear. But right now, raw, unkempt and angry, she is fucking glorious.
Moving, I close the distance between us, until I’m pressed up against her, my chest touching hers. She tips her head back to look at me and her eyes tell me that she’s just as confused about this as I am.
“This, you in this exact moment, is why I’m here Priss. I don’t understand it, but even while I hate you, I need to save you.” Closing the distance between us I kiss her, taking her lips and owning her as I slide my tongue into her mouth. I feel her silent moan as she parts her lips, her movements slow and uncertain, as her fingers clutch at the back of my neck, holding me to her, letting me know that she wants this as much as I do.
After a second we find our rhythm. The kiss becomes a game of give and take, as I nip at her full lower lip, turning my head to the side to deepen the kiss. She melts against me, her nipples pressing against my shirt as I hold her to me, pressing her as close as two people can get while fully dressed.
This kiss doesn’t feel like a prelude to sex, it’s not the tease that will lead to more. I don’t really know what it is, but in this moment with Priss in my arms, hate doesn’t matter, who she is doesn’t matter, my prejudice and her behavior doesn’t matter.
Tally once told me that who you are in the quiet moments is the real you, and right now in the silence of this hotel room, Carrigan Archibald, my Priss, is mine and that’s all that matters.
