But they had never held my face before. At least not the way he did right then. Because his palms went to my cheeks and he cupped them. And then he cut me off. With his mouth. His lips pressed to mine. Surged to mine. Covered them. Hard. And then he kissed my upper lip between his while I was still trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. Ivan was kissing me. Kissing me.
