More snippets migrating from the Tumblr... and holy hell, I was obviously obsessing on a theme at the time these were written...
She struggles. He purses his lips and watches tentative. She thrashes and kicks then calms and pants to build up to the next burst of effort. Everything in him wants to throw off her assailant, save her from the suffering. But struggle and fight is simultaneously nerve wracking and, embarrassingly, turning him on. Like a good instructor, he let's her learn the lesson. Like any other teen boy watching the two girls on the mat, he'll be thinking about this latter.
The gentle pinch of her lips gripping onto his was as electric as he remembered. Tobias had convinced himself that his memories were false, that no kiss could ever feel like it both gave and took life at the same time. But it was every bit as pungent.
The pause and purse of their tentative rhythm made his chest ache for something less chaste, another way to claim her as his. Some way to remind her that she belonged with him. But he kept his hand on her neck and around her shoulder fixing her into his embrace only stopping to stifle the spread of her hands under his shirt.
He held her face in his hands and when she smiled, he leaned down and let his lips connect. The pressure and slide of his lips against hers was like watercolors, one shade bleeding into the next, fluid until muddled in the middle. Her hands were pressing on his stomach, holding onto his shirt and he regretted needing to breath.
Is it possible that kissing is more fun when its not allowed? They've been sneaking around steeling moments in the shadows or behind doors. Pushing him one lick at a time until he cant control his thoughts. When she bats his hands away he playfully shoves her towards the train.