~Grace~
"Don't say anything," I cut in. I don't want him to tell me he is sorry about it. Or that it must have been hard for me finding out about all of this. Or ask how the fuck I was able to gather the courage to dig up a fucking corpse. I have no idea. Bruno's witch was a great help anyway to cast off the spirit of the dead.
But it was probably already too late for that.
He stares at me for an agonizingly long moment, then murmurs, "I won't speak. I won't say a word." And then, before I even have a second to breathe, his lips are on mine, exquisitely gentle and achingly tender.
With deliberate slowness, he brushes his lips back and forth across mine, the bare hint of friction sending shivers and tingles spiraling through my body.
He touches my lips and I feel it in my toes. It is a singularly odd—and singularly wonderful—sensation.
