“You are not his.” He grabbed my chin with his fingers. “You are not his,” he repeated. His eyes flicked to my lips. I watched how his face twisted at the internal battle he had within himself. I wanted to pull away. I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. Neither of us was ready yet, but that didn’t take away from how our hearts called to one another, beckoning, trying to soothe. Our connection was deep-rooted, and we’d spent years protecting it. The last few days tested us, and we almost failed. It was going to take time. We just needed time. He let out a deep breath through his nose. It tickled
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