Raspberry Ripple

7. sick

She shoved the jute bag against his chest. "Don't ever show up anywhere near me again. Let this be your last ice cream that I made for you. Never again." The look in her eyes told him that she meant it. There were not mere words spun from anger. "I hate you so---"

Dax didn't know what came over him. Lord, he must have lost his fucking mind. Because the next thing he knew, he was dropping the bag on the floor and bringing her closer by the neck so he could press his lips against hers.

He expected her to push him away, show any sign of hesitation or shock but there was nothing. She gave into the kiss immediately, her hands resting against his chest and slowly climbing up so she could twine her slender fingers through his black strands. It brought them closer, their chests pressing against each other, heartbeats competing with one another to see who's thriving the most in each other's company. Her heat was consuming him, her taste addicting. She tasted just like how he'd imagined she would --- caramel and sea salt and a tinge of fruit. It drove him fucking insane.

Dax snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, closer, and let his palm stay there. He thumbed the strip of skin between her powder blue full-sleeved crop top and her white floor-length skirt. Their lips never once left each other –devouring, biting, sucking, licking and caressing. The maddening urge to have her in his arms and feel her warm skin against hers took a back seat and all that mattered to him now was savouring her. The moment. Because she had been teasing him, fucking with his mind, bending his concrete beliefs effortlessly and diving deeper to take a seat in his heart like she'd always owned it. It used to anger him, how little control he had when she was involved but it didn't matter now.

Her small palm on his bare chest, right above his heart.

It brought him to his knees.

Dax pulled away but Sana held him by the nape and brought him back to meet his lips, "Don't stop," she rasped before resuming the kiss.

Fuck. She was a menace.

Dax backed her against the door firmly and kissed her but slowly moved to press his lips on her jaw. She was so short so she had to climb onto her tiptoes and crane her neck. In a swift motion, he swept her off her feet, held her thighs as he walked to kitchen and placed her ass onto the counter. "Your wound---" Sana tried to say.

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhhh," he said, wanting to have none of that. He was hungry for her, the feel of her skin under his lips. He sponged kisses down her jaws, her throat and stopped to bite and lick spaces of stretched warm skin.  Every time, he used his teeth, she arched her back a little more, a whimper leaving her lips.

"Do you still hate me?" he asked her, lifting his head to look at her.

"Without question. Do you hate me?" Her fingers drew stars on his skin absentmindedly.

"Very much."

"Then why did you kiss me?"

His eyebrow rose in challenge. "Why did you kiss me back?"

She lowered her eyes but her fingers never stopped touching his skin. He caught her fingers in his. She glanced up at him. "I meant what I said before, Red. It's dangerous to associate yourself with me."

"Don't think too highly of yourself," she snorted, trying to hop from the counter. He caged her in his arms.

"I'm serious. I'm not a good person. This—This kiss --- it shouldn't have happened, Red. You know that too, don't you? Nothing can happen between us."

"Do you think I'm a good person?"

"Yes. You're annoying and hard to shake off but yeah, you're one of the good ones."