Sylvan Cheney, still unsatisfied, pressed her down and kissed her fiercely a few more times before letting her go.
Jasmine Yale panted heavily, her cheeks flushed red. She glared at him, unable to say a word, focusing only on catching her breath.
Her hair was a mess, her breathing chaotic.
Sylvan Cheney's mind was far from calm; his ears were red, ripples danced in his eyes, and his heart was pounding.
He corralled Jasmine Yale into the chair, staring straight at her.
The light shone down, their eyes met, igniting countless sparks.
Jasmine Yale shot him a resentful look, thinking that even his kissing skills had regressed with his amnesia.
That just now couldn't even be called a kiss, it was clearly… gnawing.
He can't even kiss anymore.
Like a little wolfdog.
The old Sylvan Cheney kissed gently and passionately, often making her melt like water, wrapping her arms around his neck desiring more from just one kiss.
Now Sylvan Cheney's kiss… no, it can't even be called a kiss!
