"Follow my lead." My whisper is hot against Vega's ear, my lips brushing his skin.
I take a sip of the cocktail, the cloying, sugary syrup flooding my senses before I lean down. My silver dress, a constellation of tiny diamonds, rides up my thighs, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat building beneath it. I pinch his chin, tilting his head back, and crush my mouth to his.
The kiss isn't gentle. It's a demand. I force the sweet, viscous liquid from my mouth into his. He swallows, a quick, reflexive gulp, but some of it escapes, a cold trickle of gin and vermouth tracing a path down his stubbled chin and the strong column of his throat. I don't care. My tongue invades his mouth like an explorer claiming new territory, tasting the cocktail and his unique flavor underneath.
