ALEXANDER
The moment my lips touch hers, the world narrows.
She freezes for the briefest second, still as stone beneath me, and I brace myself for the rejection I’ve come to expect. But then her lips part, soft and trembling, and she kisses me back.
It isn’t cautious. It isn’t measured. It’s desperate.
Her hands clutch at me like she’s drowning, fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, trembling as though she doesn’t know what to do with me but can’t stop herself from trying.
The taste of her makes my chest ache—sweet and dangerous all at once.
I deepen the kiss, unable to stop myself, my tongue sliding against hers, coaxing her closer, needing more of her warmth, her breath, her everything. The sound she makes—a broken, almost reluctant moan—shreds the last of my restraint.
