I was not weak; I did not cry. But it hurt me, more in a kind of refreshing, thrilling way, than a kind of pain that would cripple me and send me away crying. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands, and my teeth bit into my lips, my knees were locked, but I could not faint.
Alysha SpeerTags: pain brave weak hurt sword fingernails sharden body-of-blade thrilling
He cups my face
with both hands
leans in,
eyes lingering a
sweet second
before his lips
are there on mine,
teasing,
playing,
tasting,
kissing.
When he pulls away,
I'm breathless.
He nuzzles my ear.
"Now that's thrilling."
You got that right.
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