Documenting the journey of a Cameroonian filmmaker
Here’s an excerpt from Julia London’s “one season of sunshine”.
“… Not as crazy as I am, apparently,” he said low, and his mouth descended to hers. Jane grabbed his wrist. After days of imagining it, of wanting it, Asher’s mouth was on hers, warm and soft, moving on her lips, his tongue against hers.
Jane’s reaction was purely visceral, she opened her mouth to him. One of his hands dropped from her hair and slipped around his waist, pulled her hard into his body, pressing her against him. Desire was suddenly burning Jane up, turning her insides to ashes. His kiss was devastatingly sensual and full of need. The sensation was potent and spilled over Jane, filling up the space around them, filling her lungs and mouth and eyes with Asher.
But then, just as unexpectedly as he’d kissed her, Asher broke away. “What do you need, Jane?” he asked low. “Tell me. Tell me whatever it is you need.”
Her lips parted. She looked as if she meant to speak, but instead, she melted, curving into him. She smelled like lotion and lavender, and her skin was warm. Asher shoved his hand into the knot of her hair, splayed his fingers against her jaw. “Whatever you need,” he said again, and kissed her.
Her lips singed him; he could feel her in every pore, his body drinking her in, hungering for more. He had not remembered a kiss could be like this, so full of want and hope. He preseed his hands to her breast and covered it, felt the blood in his veins turn to fire. He was erupting, his desire so powerful that he feared he’d not be able to control it. “Jane,” he whispered and pressed his lips to the salty hollow of her throat….
Wheeewww. Now you get the picture I hope guys. No hating, just saying.