He’s the kind of boy with shiny eyes and nice hands that I don’t want to say no to. He wraps his hand around my hair, tugs it a bit and tilts my head. My neck is bared, and he’s eying it like he wants to taste my blood. I speak, nervous, and he closes the distance to place a chaste open-mouthed kiss on my neck. He leans back like nothing happened, and I chatter on as if I’m not yearning for him to repeat it.
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