Gianna
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was… restrained. Like he was holding back a storm with every ounce of control he had left. His hand slid to the back of my neck, anchoring me to him, and I let him. I wanted to be anchored. The world fell away, everything else blurring except for the way he tasted—like something forbidden and unforgettable.
When he pulled back, his lips hovered over mine for a second longer, as if he wasn’t ready to let go. Then his forehead touched mine, and I heard it—the breath he let out. Quiet. Shaky. Almost like regret.
“I don’t want to be too much…” Nico breathed. “Tell me if I…” I placed my finger on his lips before tracing my thumb over them.
“No,” I whispered. “Still not enough.” He inhaled deeply, his eyes already undressing me.
“Good,” he nodded
