“I don’t…” I tried, but my voice caught when he reached up, brushing a strand of damp hair from my cheek. The pad of his thumb lingered against my jaw, and my body betrayed me, leaning into his touch. “I don't have a place by your side.”
“Are you sure that you don't?” He lowered his voice to above a whisper as he kept his eyes on mine.
His hand slipped behind my neck, and he pulled me toward him, slowly, deliberately, until his lips hovered just inches from mine.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathed.
I couldn’t.
Because I didn’t want him to.
I was still trying to process the war going on inside me when his lips crushed mine.
There was nothing soft about the kiss, no hesitation, no confusion. It was raw and hungry and full of every emotion he refused to name. I gasped into his mouth as his
