Page 13 of Messy AF
“I can’t get you out of my head.” He rested a hand on the side of my face, cradling me like a fragile treasure as he brushed his thumb across my lips. “You’re all I think about.”
Then he closed the distance, whispering kisses across my nose and cheeks, soft as a butterfly’s wings. He did it again, and a third time, every brush of lips slow and gentle, almost testing.
Closing my eyes, I leaned into him, tilting my face up in invitation.
There was no urgency, no desperation, but when our mouths finally met, everything changed. Electricity crackled between us,the air charged and heavy. Warmth bloomed at the point of contact and spread quickly, engulfing me in a sensation I could only describe as belonging.
It didn’t feel like a first kiss. Instead, it held a comforting familiarity, like coming home after a long absence. It sounded crazy, impossible even, but my heart seemed to recognize what my brain couldn’t comprehend.
The room around us dimmed, and the sound of the rain tapping against the windows faded into the background. A low growl echoed through the room as Warren slid his hand up my throat, tracing a line behind my ear and into my hair.
His touch was tentative at first, then bolder, holding me steady while he pulled away to meet my gaze. We parted only far enough for me to see the feral light blazing in his eyes, a ring of pure crimson glowing around the edges of the smoky gray.
“Mine,” he growled, his voice deep and filled with unwavering conviction.
It should have frightened me, or at least given me pause. Instead, it only made me braver. I reached up with a trembling hand and brushed my fingertips along the curve of his jaw.
“Yours,” I whispered, the word shaky but sincere.
With that promise suspended between us, he drew me back in, our foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling. Those last flimsy barriers between us melted away, replaced by the certainty that we had crossed an invisible threshold we couldn’t turn back from.
When his arms wrapped around me, I sank into him, bringing our mouths together again, the kiss purposeful and more confident this time. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, and I opened for him with a soft moan.
He plunged inside, hungry and searching, mapping every inch with careful strokes. Our tongues tangled and retreated, sliding together in an intimate dance that both burned and soothed.
I lost myself to the rhythm, to the heat and need that coursed between us. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out reason, every inch of me alive and quivering beneath his touch. My world shrank to the circle of his arms and the feel of his mouth, and I moaned, greedy for anything he would give me.
A touch. A whisper. Another taste. It didn’t matter. I just wanted more of him.
But then my heart began to pound, crashing against my ribs, bringing with it a wave of dizziness that had me jerking away with a sharp gasp. Screwing my eyes shut, I tried to breathe through it, but the spinning only worsened.
Panic fluttered beneath my skin, sharp and insistent. I clutched at Warren, my fingers tangling in the front of his shirt, gripping the soft cotton like a lifeline.
“Easy,” he whispered, holding me against the broad expanse of his chest. “Keep breathing.” He caressed my back and petted my hair, grounding me in a way I couldn’t do for myself. “It’ll pass.”
“I’m sorry.”
Fuck, I hated this. Why did these stupid symptoms have to happen now?
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“But I ruined everything.”
His breath fanned against my ear when he chuckled. “You didn’t ruin anything, angel. Holding you like this is more than enough.”
I sighed, but relief pooled in my chest, mingling with a sense of gratitude.
We sat there for a long time, neither of us in a rush to fill the quiet. I traced idle patterns across his chest with my fingers, memorizing the hard lines of his body. It amazed me how perfectly we fit together, like the answer to a question I hadn’t even known to ask.
The silence lingered, companionable now as I felt the worst of the dizziness recede. Keeping my eyes closed, I burrowed closer, the tightness in my chest finally easing. Only when I felt steady again did I lift my head, meeting his gaze with a sheepish smile.
“Don’t say it,” he warned, but it lacked any real censure. “Don’t apologize again.”
“Not even a little one?” I checked.
“Not even a little one.” Laughter rumbled in his chest, and he dipped his head to brush a kiss to the tip of my nose. “This isn’t temporary anymore. You get that, right?”
I nodded. “I’m yours.”
