The kiss
599 Words
Isabella forgot how to breathe.
Damian’s thumb remained against her lip, warm and possessive, while the storm raged beyond the apartment walls.
Everything narrowed to him.
To the darkness in his eyes. To the tension in his jaw. To the terrifying restraint holding him together.
“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” she whispered.
“It’s a dangerous thing to feel.”
His voice sounded rougher now.
Less controlled.
The realization sent heat through her body.
Damian Moretti was unraveling.
Because of her.
She should have stepped away.
Instead, she moved closer.
A mistake.
A fatal one.
His breathing changed instantly.
“Isabella,” he warned softly.
But there was no warning left in his eyes.
Only hunger.
Her fingers curled slowly into the wet fabric of his shirt, and the second she touched him, Damian closed his eyes like it physically hurt.
No one had ever reacted to her this way before.
Like touch itself was destruction.
“You’re shaking,” she whispered.
“You should be worried about why.”
The low sound of thunder vibrated through the apartment.
Still neither of them moved.
Neither willing to be the first to cross the line.
Then Isabella made the choice for both of them.
She kissed him.
Soft at first. Barely there.
A dangerous little confession.
Damian froze.
For one suspended second, the entire world stopped breathing with them.
Then he broke.
His hand slid into her hair as he kissed her back with devastating intensity, pushing her against the wall beside the door hard enough to steal her breath.
The kiss was nothing like she expected.
Not gentle. Not careful.
Hungry.
Like months of obsession had finally found somewhere to go.
Heat exploded through her body as Damian deepened the kiss, one hand gripping her waist possessively while the other tangled in her hair.
Every thought disappeared.
There was only him.
His mouth. His touch. His restraint cracking apart piece by piece.
A low sound escaped her throat before she could stop it.
Damian pulled back instantly.
Not far.
Just enough to look at her.
His chest rose heavily, dark eyes burning into hers with something almost frightening.
“That sound,” he said roughly, “is going to ruin me.”
Her pulse raced wildly.
He looked destroyed already.
And somehow that made him even more dangerous.
Damian rested his forehead briefly against hers, breathing unevenly for the first time since she met him.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
Isabella’s fingers tightened against his shirt.
“How long?”
His gaze lifted slowly to hers.
“Long enough to know I should’ve stayed away.”
The honesty in his voice made her chest ache.
Because she understood it now.
This wasn’t simple attraction.
This was obsession fed by loneliness, grief, and two broken people finding something reckless in each other.
And the worst part?
She wanted more.
Damian must have seen it on her face because his expression darkened instantly.
“That look again,” he murmured.
“What look?”
“The one that makes me think you’d let me destroy you.”
A shiver slid down her spine.
Maybe she would.
Maybe that was the problem.
His hand moved slowly down her throat—not hurting, never hurting—just holding her attention completely.
“You need to understand something, Isabella.”
Her breathing turned shallow.
“When I want something,” Damian said quietly, “I become dangerous.”
The storm crashed outside.
But it was nothing compared to the chaos beginning inside her.
- Writer
