I twist my head away. “I recall you saying you would rather die than kiss me again.” He lets out a soft, half-stifled groan, and the sound shoots straight through my bloodstream. Makes my pulse quicken. “God, you really know how to hold a grudge.” “They’re your words, not mine,” I tell him, refusing to sway. “You’re killing me now,” he murmurs against my neck. His lips graze my skin, and his other hand slides up, tangles in my hair, his nails lightly scraping my scalp. Despite myself, I feel my resolve buckle. “Isn’t that enough?”
