The kiss is just a soft brush of the lips, and for a moment, nothing happens. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe. He’s just standing there, his eyes fixed on me, wide and dark. I think I’ve made a mistake—that any second now, he’ll pull away and leave me humiliated. So I decide to step back, but then I gasp as his hand moves to my waist, his fingers pressing into my skin, pulling me closer.
His lips meet mine—slow at first, almost testing—but soon the restraint gives way. He deepens the kiss, and I feel myself being swept up in it, drowning in the heat of the moment. He pins me against the wall as his grip tightens, his other hand tangling in my hair as his mouth claims mine with an urgency I didn’t expect. A soft moan escapes me as his tongue brushes against mine, my fingers curling i
