As I turned, I punched him in the abdomen again.
My vision blurred, my head spun, the world tilting. One moment I was near the bar, the next I was backed against a massive sculpture at the edge of the dance floor. Before I could grasp his intentions, his kiss devoured my breath, dominating and suffocating.
The sudden suffocation left my mind blank. Panicked, I shoved him away with all my strength.
He lunged at me again, wild and beast-like, his lips bruising mine. My nails dug into his waist as we locked in a silent battle—neither willing to yield.
Then, as if exhausted, his kiss softened. His cold hands slid suggestively along my back.
My resistance melted, and I collapsed into his arms like water. Our lips tangled in pure, frenzied passion, fragmented images flashing through my mind—ancient fireworks, music, tulips, a full moon, enormous black wings—all streaking past like lightning.
He sucked greedily, savoring, devouring. "Emo, we need a bed!"
"Maybe."
