THE KISS

DAMIEN

The way she kisses me is like nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s intense, desperate like we’re both trying to drown in each other. And I’m drowning. Completely. I pull her closer, my fingers tangled in her hair, and I can’t get enough. Every soft moan from her, every shift of her body against mine—it’s driving me insane.

When we finally break apart, I’m panting, struggling to catch my breath, but I don’t let go. My forehead rests against hers, my eyes still half-closed as I try to steady myself. Her lips are swollen, her face flushed, and I can feel her heart racing against my chest.

“Anna...” I breathe, my voice raw. “Is this your first kiss?.”

She doesn’t say anything. Her fingers curl into my shirt, her grip tightening like she’s holding onto me for dear life. I feel it too—the fear that if we stop now, something will change and break.

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at me, and the way her eyes meet mine—wide, vulnerable, full of something I don’t even know how to name