Taste

He knows her lips taste like strawberries, soft beneath his.

He knows how sweet it is to slip his tongue into her mouth to taste honey.

He knows that if he licks along the column of her throat he'll taste salt and sweat and perfume on her skin and the faint hint of shampoo.

His fingers linger over the frosty confection of her bra, fumbling with the little snap between her breasts, brushing the fabric aside.

He covers the dark circle of her areola with his mouth, his tongue swirls around her there, tasting her.

Hinata is sweeter than candy.