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She scrunches her eyes shut, her nose twitching.

It’s crooked.

A recent memory surfaces.

“I’m the one who shoved the door in your face. Who broke your nose,” I admit.

She smiles at the confession. “Our paths were meant to cross again.”

Her eyes are still sealed shut, and I want to beg her to open them. To let me stare into her soul.

To everyone else I will be a monster.

But for her? I would be a tamed beast.

I would wear a collar, let her hold the leash.

If it means she would keep touching me like this.

Choose to remain by my side.

“Where have you been my entire life?” I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers. “Cinnamon, I promise I won’t go anywhere again.”

“Good.”

And then she gently pulls my face to hers. Her soft breath filling my lungs with her sweet and spiced scent.

Cinnamon.

And then my mind unravels.

The first kiss was an accident, but this one is led with purpose. With intent.

A choice she makes.

I offer her full control, allowing her to explore my lips, for her to deepen it. I dance with her tongue.

She moans into my mouth.

It is my undoing. It is the spark to the oil that fills me.

And then I flip us, landing her carefully on her back. Grinding down into her. My cock desperate to remove the clothes between us.

There will be no putting out this fire.

I will burn for Cinnamon for the rest of my life.

22

The Perfect Blend of Sugar and Sin

Cinnamon

There’s a wash of calm. A recognition of rightness that flows through me as Orzo rolls his hips.

A neediness I can’t control.

I’m scared, but not of him.