Lily Thompson
Jesus
His mouth found mine like it never forgot the shape of it.
There was no hesitation. No soft beginning. Just fire. Instant, searing, all-consuming fire.
The moment our lips met, it was like the dam I’d built inside me cracked open. Six years of silence. Six years of buried memories. Six years of wanting, resenting, aching.
And all of it came rushing out through that kiss.
His hand cradled the back of my head, tilting it with the same quiet dominance I remembered like he couldn’t bear to waste a second. His lips were hot and hungry against mine, and I felt the groan rise from his chest before I heard it.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was desperate. Like he’d spent every second of every year craving this, and now that he had it again, he didn’t know how to
