Not that I had ever tried to escape. Not once we had finally chosen each other. A prickle of sensation rose up the side of my neck, marking my skin with butterfly soft kisses that I could have sworn were trailed with that stubble he never quite shaved off. A sigh escaped me, longing and heartache merging as the ghost of him faded once more, his intention unclear. He’d tell me not to do this. Tell me not to do anything that could end badly or risk my life. But then the asshole would have just done it himself, taking on the risks regardless of the cost that losing him would place on everyone he
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