It had become so natural to me to seek comfort in his arms. He stroked my spine, slowly up and down, meaning to soothe.
Not to inflame.
But it still happened.
I drew my head back so that I could see his beautiful eyes. “Xander, what are we?” I asked.
Confusion briefly marred his features. “Husband and wife.”
“No, whatarewe?”
“I ...” He didn’t have an answer.
At least not one with words.
His expression turned guarded and unsure for a moment, showing me his vulnerability, before he leaned forward and rubbed his nose against mine. As he had so many times before in our shared dreams.
I melted from it.
Then he tilted his head so that his lips were just above mine, our breath intermingling while I waited in a crazed anticipation.
His mouth finally landed on mine, soft as butterfly wings. His kiss was slow, every movement intentional in a way that no other kiss between us had ever been.
So deliberate. So undemanding. So careful.
So tender.
Somehow he had captured my entire soul with this kiss.
“What is that?” I whispered.
“This is called kissing,” he said with a soft smile before returning his lips to mine.
When he and I had first met, he had kissed me this way. Gently and sweetly. I had demanded that he kiss me passionately. I had dismissed his soft kisses as less than.
What a fool I had been!
This was still like slipping into a warm bath, but a warm bath that caused me to feel safe and protected and made every inch of my body demand more. Emotions swirled behind his kisses, enveloping me. As if they’d always been there, hiding behind the anger, behind the passion we had used to disguise them.
There had been a connection between us from the beginning, no matter how hard I’d tried to fight it.
I clung to his powerful shoulders, his biceps, the parts of his body that promised they would protect me. Shelter me from every enemy. Keep out the storm.
His kiss was devastatingly sensual, poignant, light as air. He moved his lips against mine as if to prove that there was a universe of sensation I had never experienced before and he was determined to show it to me.
I sagged into his kiss. Surrendering. Wholeheartedly giving myself to him, willing to be swept up in this.
He kissed me as if I were precious. Cherished. It made my heart swell and soar to the point that I was worried I might stop breathing.
Then he began to slowly lower me back against the bed. I went more than willingly, arching up against him so that our connection wouldn’t be broken. But he did take his lips from mine when I lay flat, and I nearly whimpered.
“Why are you kissing me like this?” I asked, feeling dazed.
“Not every fire needs to be ignited quickly. They can also be built slowly.” His voice was low and ruined and every one of his words felt like falling sparks against my skin, singeing me.
“But why?” I marveled at my ability to speak.
He froze in place, his eyes locked on mine. “You know why.”
