The kiss started soft, almost tentative— like a dream taking shape between them. But it wasn't long before it turned deeper, more urgent. Donovan's fingers tangled in her hair as he pulled her closer, his lips claiming hers with a hunger he could no longer restrain.
The taste of her, intoxicating as ever, dulled the sharp edges of reason, and Esme was equally lost in him, making her forget the weight of her own confession, at least for now.
Her heart pounded against his chest, its rhythm a perfect echo of his own. He knew he should stop– this wasn't the place, nor the time— but how was he supposed to pull away when she always left him craving more? Still, he forced himself to break the kiss, if only to let her breath.
As he withdrew, his gaze lingered on the way her lips remained slightly parted, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed with the haze of it all. The sight of her like this, utterly undone, made him want to dive right back in.