“Still all right?”
His eye opened.
“Yes.”
His fingers twisted in my shirt.
“Again.”
I kissed him more slowly.
His lips parted beneath mine, uncertain at first, then answering. He tilted his head with a familiarity that might have come from instinct, muscle memory, or nothing more mysterious than wanting me.
I did not care which.
His mouth was softer than I remembered.
Exactly as I remembered.
The contradiction hurt.
I kept the kiss restrained.
No demand.
No expectation.
No hunger he would be forced to manage.
Then Noah made a low sound and leaned closer.
His right hand slid from my chest to my jaw. He traced the edge of my beard before curling his fingers against my face and holding me there.
The kiss deepened because he chose it.
Heat moved through me, immediate and fierce.
I contained it with every fragment of discipline I possessed.
My thumb stroked once beneath his ear.
Noah shivered.
His tongue brushed cautiously against my lower lip.
I opened for him.
The contact lasted only a moment, but it changed the temperature of the room. His breath caught against my mouth. His fingers tightened, drawing me closer until the angle pulled against his brace.
I eased away at once.
His forehead came to rest against mine.
We were both breathing unevenly now.
“You taste familiar,” he whispered.
I shut my eyes.
