The moment his tongue slips past my lips is the moment everything's lost. A sob escapes me as he deepens the kiss. I don't want this. I don't want to want this. I don't I don't I don't butaaaah...
His mouth gentles.
Not all the way. Not enough that I could mistake him for a man who isn't going to take what he came here for. But enough that the kiss changes in my mouth from a punishment into something else. Something I don’t have a word for, even now.
He lifts his head to let me breathe, even just for a moment, and what I see in his eyes...
The tenderness in it breaks my heart because I can’t...I can’t make myself believe it.
And even though I haven’t said a word, it’s as if he hears it all the same.
My heart breaking into pieces.
And it makes the tenderness disappear. And something feral and possessive taking its place.
He kisses me again, and it’s back to what it was before. Punishing without being cruel. Masterful without being selfish. But at the same time, it’s just like any kiss from his. It hurts so much to admit this, especially after all those eighteen years...
But as long as he’s the one kissing me, I just can’t seem to think. His palm is settling at my waist now. His fingers are rediscovering the curve of my side through the fabric of my shirt. His thumb is running along the seam where my blouse meets my skirt.
I just can’t think.
All I can do is feel.
And oh, the things he makes me feel with his palm covering me, the shape of me against his hand, and even though he’s just holding me—
It’s because this is him...
That makes all the difference to my body, his touch ripping out a sob from my throat, and I just...
I just start losing it.
Witness states...Witness doesn’t state...Strike this...strike that...
My brain is going haywire with his mouth moving down to the hollow under my ear, the line of my throat, and the place where my pulse lives, and I just...
I can’t stop myself from reacting, my legs tightening around his waist like they used to, and my fingers are now gripping his hair, and the worst part is how this feels...
It’s not just familiar.
But it feels so, so familiar in the best kind of way, and when I hear him say my name—
“Juniper.”
It’s different from how it was eighteen years ago.
The accent that I realize now he’s done his best to hide...
It’s there in every syllable.
New. Raw.Real.
And the sound of it just brings me closer...
So, so much closer—
“Juniper mia...”
I never thought I’d be the kind of woman to surrender everything just because of an accent. Or maybe, just like with everything else, it’s because the accent ishis,and that’s the only reason I feel so, so close?