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second before I proceed to smack loud kisses on his face, his head trapped between my palms. I try not to notice the woodsy musk of his scent but find myself breathing him in instead. His arms wrap around me like bands of hot steel and tug me close. I squeak and plant my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. I’m immediately distracted by the feel of his muscles bunching and shifting under his shirt, and my kisses slow and linger against his jaw as I surreptitiously spread my fingers and dig them into his skin. There’s hardly any give, like he’s carved out of marble. A shiver runs through
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Even after a hundred years, I still remember my manners.
Nothing says I care better than giving up the last serving of food.
“Let me love you for a thousand years and prove you wrong,”

