I've been kissed before. I've never been claimed.
The kiss started rough, all the frustration and fear and unspoken longing of the past two weeks finally breaking loose at once, his hand fisted gently in the collar of my jacket like he needed something to hold onto, mine sliding up into his hair like I'd been waiting to do exactly that since the night at the gate. It deepened fast, both of us losing whatever careful distance we'd spent two weeks pretending to maintain, and for one long, unbroken stretch of time there was nothing in the world except the two of us and the office door shut against everything waiting outside it.
I'd been kissed plenty of times before this — clumsy high school kisses, a handful of relationships that never quite fit right, the ordinary give and take of two peo
