Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 22: Kissing her neck

Chapter 22: Kissing her neck

"I don’t know what your eyes do to me," she admitted as they stepped inside, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and amusement.

They stepped inside, the door shutting softly behind them.

The house was quiet, the air still and undisturbed.

"No one’s in," Syrla noted, her voice carrying a hint of satisfaction.

It was exactly as she expected, no interruptions, no distractions.

Just the two of them.

She turned to Alex, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile.

"Now..." she drawled, taking a deliberate step closer.

"Where were we?"

Her golden eyes locked onto his, the same hunger from before rekindling as she reached for him.

Alex didn’t hesitate.

He reached out, grabbed Syrla’s arm, and yanked her toward him with a firm but controlled pull.

She gasped softly as she collided against his chest, her hands instinctively landing on his shoulders.

"I believe I was kissing you like this," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Before she could respond, he bent down, capturing her lips in a deep, deliberate kiss.

This time, there was no restraint, no market crowd to hold them back.

His grip on her tightened slightly as he poured every ounce of his growing desire into the kiss, his lips moving against hers with practiced ease.

As their lips met, the world around them seemed to blur into the background.

The warmth of the moment wrapped around them like a cocoon, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them.

Alex’s hands, steady yet eager, traced a slow path down her back, fingertips brushing over the curves of her waist before venturing lower.

His palms found the soft curve of her butt, fingers molding against the shape as he gave it a firm, playful squeeze.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in, his voice a hushed whisper against her skin.

"Your butt is so perfect," he murmured.

Syrla giggled, the sound light and musical, her cheeks tinged with warmth.

She pressed herself closer, the heat between them intensifying as she whispered back, "Thank you."

As they had this conversation, their lips remained locked in a slow, unhurried kiss, a steady rhythm of warmth and desire passing between them.

The world outside their embrace faded, leaving only the heat of their bodies and the soft, muffled sounds of their breaths intertwining.

Alex’s hands lingered on her, his fingers mapping out every subtle curve as he deepened the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer.

Syrla responded in kind, her body melting into his as if they were two halves of the same flame, flickering and feeding off each other’s energy.

The gentle press of her chest against his, the way her fingers played at the nape of his neck, it all sent a slow burn through him, a sensation both grounding and electrifying at once.

Despite the intensity, neither of them rushed.

Their lips danced between teasing pecks and deeper, lingering kisses, as if neither wanted to be the first to break away.

Time became unimportant, marked only by the quickened beating of their hearts.

Finally, Alex pulled back, his lips parting from hers with a breathless reluctance.

The momentary loss of contact left a ghost of warmth between them, a quiet craving still lingering in the air.

His gaze flickered to hers, searching, before shifting to something just beyond them.

He tilted his head slightly and lifted a hand, pointing toward the couch across the room.

"Let’s go there," he said, his voice low, inviting.

The couch sat bathed in the dim glow of the room, its plush cushions promising comfort.

The suggestion carried a weight of unspoken possibilities, an invitation not just to sit but to continue what they’d started in a space meant for closeness.

Syrla met his gaze, a playful glint in her eyes as a small smile tugged at her lips.

Without a word, she let him take her hand, allowing him to lead her toward the inviting space where the night still had so much more to unfold.

They moved toward the largest couch in the room, its cushions wide and inviting.

The dim lighting cast soft shadows around them, wrapping the space in a quiet intimacy.

As soon as they sat down, Alex wasted no time.

Before Syrla could even settle in, he was already leaning into her, his presence warm and insistent.

His lips found hers in a quick, teasing peck, a brief spark before he trailed lower.

His hands rested at her sides, fingers pressing lightly against her waist as he tilted his head, his lips brushing the smooth curve of her neck.

The contrast between the warmth of his mouth and the slight chill of the air sent a small shiver through her.

He pressed a soft kiss to her skin, then another, slower this time, lingering just enough to let her feel the heat of his breath.

Syrla’s eyes fluttered closed as he continued, his lips tracing a path along her neck, each kiss deeper, more deliberate than the last.

The sensation sent a wave of warmth through her, a slow-building tension that made her press just a little closer against him.

Alex’s lips moved with gentle precision, pressing a series of soft, fleeting kisses along the delicate curve of Syrla’s neck.

Each one was light, teasing, barely lingering before moving to the next, yet they sent a ripple of warmth through her.

Her stomach fluttered at the sensation, a quiet thrill unfurling with every touch.

The warmth of his breath fanned against her skin between kisses, making her shiver ever so slightly.

His pace was unhurried, savoring the moment, letting the anticipation build.

Syrla’s fingers curled slightly against his back, her body instinctively responding to the tenderness of his touch.

She tilted her head just a little, unconsciously giving him more access, silently inviting him to continue.

The steady rhythm of his lips against her skin was intoxicating, gentle yet undeniably electric, leaving her breathless in the best way.

Alex’s kisses, once light and teasing, gradually shifted in intensity.

The soft pecks that had left Syrla’s stomach fluttering gave way to something deeper, more deliberate.

His lips lingered longer against her skin before he parted them, drawing her flesh gently into his mouth.

A slow, warm suction followed, his tongue flicking briefly against her neck before he released her, only to repeat the motion a little lower.

The contrast between his earlier tenderness and this new, heated rhythm sent a shiver down her spine.

Syrla let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her fingers tightening against his back as a wave of warmth coursed through her.

The sensation was intoxicating, each press of his lips, each slow, deliberate pull of his mouth against her skin sent a thrill through her.