His mouth found mine like he’d been waiting years.
There was no hesitation—just heat, sharp and immediate. Richard kissed me like he couldn’t stop, like he didn’t want to. His hands gripped my waist and pulled me flush against him, anchoring me to him with a need that felt just as dangerous as it did electric.
I didn’t even try to hold back. I kissed him like I’d been dying to, like I had something to prove. Because I did. I wanted him to feel it—that I wasn’t afraid of this, of him, of us.
When his lips slid to my jaw, then lower, to the hollow beneath my ear, my breath stuttered. One of his hands threaded into my hair while the other settled on the small of my back, hot through the fabric of my shirt.
He backed me into the wall with a quiet, guttural sound, his mouth devouring mine a
