His right hand left my neck and moved down my chest, stopping over my heart.
He pressed his palm there.
My heart pounded beneath his palm.
“You’re fast,” he whispered.
“You are kissing me.”
“Green?”
“Yes.”
His thumb moved over my shirt.
I tilted my head and kissed the corner of his mouth, then returned to his lips.
He answered immediately.
The kiss grew slower.
Deeper.
His body softened into mine without surrendering control.
I could feel the moment he stopped monitoring every breath and simply experienced it.
His fingers tightened over my heart.
My hand moved upward between his shoulder blades.
“Still green?”
“Yes.”
I kissed his lower lip.
He shivered.
“Still?”
“Yes.”
His voice had roughened.
I kept the pressure gentle. The rule said kissing and hands above the waist. It did not forbid desire, but I refused to let the intensity of my body rewrite what he had agreed to.
Noah leaned closer until his forehead nearly touched mine.
“I want your hand under the sweater.”
I held still.
“That changes a rule.”
“I know.”
“Is that what you want, or what you think should happen next?”
