Page 193 of The Invite
Rolling to his side, he tugs me into his arms and rubs my back until my sobs turn into small sniffles. I hate these moments where I break down at unexpected times. It’s the consequence of bottling up all my emotions inside.
Ten years since I’ve opened up to someone. Too goddamn long to go without having another person to bare my soul to.
A depressing thought creeps in.
Am I really into Augustus or am I clinging to the first person to show me affection and listen to me?
I shoot the voice down before it can grow into a seed of doubt. What Augustus and I feel for each other is real. Our connection is strong and deep.
Soft lips graze my forehead and press a gentle kiss. I shiver when they stay there. My heart beats faster the longer Augustus’s breath ruffles the small hairs framing my cheeks. As we lie together without an inch of space between us, his hard muscles pressed against my soft curves, I’m taken back to the moment right before our evening shot to hell.
The temptation to kiss him evolves into a crucial necessity with every beat of my pulse. The effects of it travel straight between my thighs, provoking a low throb. I have to feel his lips on mine, kissing me back with fervor. He’s branded every inch of my body except for my mouth.
After promising to spend eternity with me, a kiss should be a small price to pay. What is holding him back? Would he push me away if I did?
A sharp sizzle laces my skin as his mouth glides back and forth like he’s having the same thoughts. Lying so close, it’s inevitable to not think of locking our lips.
Pressing my palm into his pec, I raise my head. His hand resting on my waist slides an inch upward. I trace mine to curl around his shoulder. Digging my nails into the coiled flesh, I feel his breath tease the tip of my nose as I stare at the shape of his full lips. So seductive and inviting, even as they’re pressed in a thin line.
I sway closer and lick mine in anticipation. A rough exhale whips through the air when my tongue lightly tastes him too because of the negligible distance between our faces.
I don’t dare meet his eyes, afraid to see the hesitation. Or worse, the rejection.
“If you’re going to kiss me for the first time, little prey, then you better look me in the eye.”
My skin flushes while my stomach does a backflip at his husky dare. I want to cry from delight he isn’t thwarting my attempt. And that’s before he yanks the earth from beneath my feet with his revelation.
“I sure as hell want the beautiful eyes of the woman on mine as I imprint every single second of the moment she stealsmyfirst kiss.”
My heart launches to my throat in tandem with my eyes jumping up to lock with his molten ones. He holds me immobile in a trance as I let those words sink in.
He’s never kissed a girl? It sounds so preposterous. Except nothing but sincerity shines in his pupils.
It all becomes crystal clear.
He wasn’t repulsed or angry at me when I tried to kiss him in the past. It’s because he was holding himself back from giving in to me—us—completely. Kissing implies intimacy and that’s not what our relationship was.
Everything’s changed today.
He wants to be with me, no holds barred. He couldn’t have shown in a more special and significant way that he’s all in. We’re falling into this blissful abyss together.
Without a second thought, I cup his face and seal my lips to his.
Time stands frozen as I just enjoy the feel of them on mine. The shape of it is so soft and luxurious unlike the rest of him, which is made of brimstone. My lashes begin to flutter, causing his hand on my spine to slither up to the back of my neck. A warning lies in the strong curl of his fingers to not take my eyes off him.
Like I could ever. They have imprisoned me since the very first second they collided with mine in the woods.
Sinister.
Deadly.
Sensual.
Soon, the simple touch isn’t enough and I suck on his bottom lip. His grip flexes and I repeat it to his upper lip. Slanting his head, he presses a close-mouthed kiss. Like he’s testing the waters, before diving deep.
The kiss starts slow as we learn the contours of each other.
This may as well be my first kiss because I only did it once when I was sixteen—eight torturous years of abstinence from any physical touch.
