From the first moment you step foot on the raft, you're sucked in at a dizzying pace, at the mercy of rushing water and sharp rocks. Control is something you barely cling to as you're tumbled about on wave after wave of insistent current. And it's exhilarating, it's a rush. There's only you and the wet air that fills your lungs until you're choking on it, drunk on the taste. Spinning in circles, faster and faster as the river takes you to a new place, hurls you into new sensations until you forget about paddling and just hang on for the ride, knowing wherever you go, it'll be worth it for the trip. Orlando loved white-water rafting. But he loved kissing Harry more. "Fuck, but you've got the sweetest mouth." Harry's sigh was right up against Orlando's lips, becoming a part of the kiss. "Tastes like cotton candy, sugar on my lips." Orlando moaned, snaked his tongue out to capture the words, and Harry's mouth dragged him back under. More. Just...more. Wanted to crawl inside Harry's mouth and stay for a few days. Hell, a few years. He'd never get enough of Harry, of the almost bittersweet taste of him rolling around on his tongue. Orlando clutched the back of Harry's head, lithe body surging into Harry's muscled one, as he sank into the kiss, slanted his mouth over Harry's again and again, needing more, craving more, tongues slipping over each other, teeth scraping, lips swollen, always begging for more. "I could just eat you," Orlando groaned, sinking his teeth into Harry's lower lip to prove his point. Strong arms tightened around him, and dark eyes flared slightly with untapped passion. Then Harry's mouth was back on Orlando's, taking and devouring, and Orlando rose up on tiptoe to meet it, safe in Harry's arms, as he let himself go. Lips and tongues and bodies strained toward each other, in each other, and it was glorious, it was wet and heat and Harry's tongue pumping into his, Orlando sucking on it with slow precision. It was Harry's lips, so firm and soft, melting over his, stealing breath and thought and movement until all Orlando could do was grab onto solid shoulders and take. Take more of Harry's mouth, take the almost bone-crushing embrace, take need and passion and want and swallow it whole, give it back with his kiss. Orlando trembled as they parted, felt the trembling in Harry, wanted to make him tremble again, tremble always, for him and only him. "We need to go back." Harry's voice was rough, full of regret, as he pushed a stray curl back from Orlando's head. His full lips looked ravished and raw and still untamed. "I know. Adoring public and all that," Orlando smiled. And Harry just groaned, pulled him back into that strong embrace. "One more kiss," he said, lips already on Orlando's, barely grazing the skin. "One more kiss," Orlando breathed, already sinking back into Harry's lips, Harry's body, Harry's need. Getting swept away was the best part about Harry's kiss. Onto Slide
|