My gaze slides away to a family walking past us. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”
His cold, trembling fingers find my jaw, gently cupping it as he turns my face back to him. I find myself involuntarily leaning into his touch, my pulse quickening until it becomes deafening and out of control. “Next question,” he whispers.
“Yes?”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with his other hand, dark eyes settling on my parted lips. “Can I kiss you?”
Everything around me comes to a stop. I feel my heartbeat speeding up, so fast, so loud, that I barely hear myself whispering, “What?”
I follow his gaze as it slides over our heads, and I can’t help but chuckle softly when I see a sprig of mistletoe hanging there.
“Can I kiss you, Alara?” he repeats, his breath fanning across my mouth.
I nod, and it’s all it takes for his lips to crash onto mine.
Time stops.
The world blurs.
And I melt into him.
The first press of his lips is gentle but firm, and it sets my racing heart on fire. He pulls away momentarily just to watch my reaction, just to make sure it’s what I want, but when I throw my cup to the ground and fist his coat to pull him back to me, he laughs and kisses me again, the sound of his joy evaporating in the intermingling of our breaths.
His hands cradle my face as his mouth moves with mine in a slow, sensual dance. He tastes like chocolate and sugar – he tastes like everything I love.
Winding my arms around his neck, I pull myself as close as I can, which causes a moan to erupt in the back of his throat. The sound makes a shiver rush down my spine. When he tilts my head at the perfect angle to deepen the kiss, I sigh, and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth.
Our tongues meet for the first time, sending a shock of electricity through my body, and, as if he’s felt it, he smiles. Slipping a hand to the back of my head, Diego tangles his fingers through my hair, grunting in satisfaction when I respond with equal fervor, with equal passion.
He’s really kissing me.
I’m really kissing Diego.
I feel like I’m dreaming.
There’s an urgency in the way he claims my lips, as though he needs every taste like a cure to an addiction. Like he can’t get enough. Like he doesn’t want to breathe. Like he can’t be sated. But eventually, as my nails scrape his nape, he pulls away just to take a shaky breath in.
My lungs don’t need the air, they don’t need the break, so I seek his mouth again, and find myself moaning at the way he kisses me with a force that renders me defenseless and utterlyspeechless. My palm slips up to cup the side of his neck, his pulse erratic underneath it. Our rhythm falls into something slower, tender, and I try to commit the feel of him to memory.
I’m the first one to pull away, my head spinning with the intensity of it all, and every inch of my body burning like an inferno.
Dropping his forehead to mine, he kisses me one more time – softly, the brush of an unspoken promise lingering between us.
I slowly come back to reality, basking in the way his thumb caresses my flaming cheekbone.
“Alara,” he whispers gruffly. “I—”
He’s interrupted by someone clearing their throat. “Sir?”
We pull away to see an elderly man standing in front of us, a knowing smile on his lips. He points his cane to Diego’s lap. “You have some hot chocolate on your pants.” Then, he saunters off, whistling as if he was never there.
Diego and I exchange a glance, then burst out in laughter.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DIEGO
A high-pitched scream jolts me awake.
