His warm hands close over my mine and then he whispers my name.

I inhale the breath from his words and use it to exhale my own.

“I love you,” I murmur as my fingers glide into his hair.

He groans and slides his hands around my waist and draws us together.

I go willingly, and my body melts into his. His erection molds itself against the yielding flesh of my stomach.

That first delicious quiver of desire spreads and blooms into a flurry of need that grips my entire body. I press closer to him, trying desperately to erase the distance between us and pretend that this moment isn’t, in fact, a eulogy.  

My eyes flutter closed as I caress the round curve of his skull before I cradle it in my hands. I savor the soft feathery slide of his hair through my fingers and inhale the lingering scent of ginger from his shampoo.

“I love you, too,” he says softly. His voice is heavy with regret that when I lick my lower lip, I can taste the residue of it.

And then, his lips sweep across mine. The touch is light as gossamer, as fragile as the strands of a spider’s web. Yet it shakes me to my very core.

“Open your eyes, Sunshine.” Graham's voice wafts over me, and I shake my head. If I open my eyes, this will end, and I’m not ready.

“Please,” he asks in a voice I have never been able to resist.

I open my eyes to find his stardust gray eyes wet with unshed tears.

“I’ve never kissed anyone, Apollo,” he says before he lowers his mouth back to mine. Our eyes stay fixed on each other, and I can see the truth in his. He’s letting me go.

My heart thumps in my chest, and I whimper when our lips meet in another gentle kiss.

“I’ve never loved anyone.” He takes my top lip between his. He sucks it gently, and I hate him so much for doing this to us. Even now, when everything is broken, when he’s shaking the very foundation my hopes are built on, all I want is for him to choose me.

We feel so good together. So right.

Squandering this feels like sinning.

He drags his lips across my cheek and presses them to my ear.

“I’m saving everything I can for you. And I’m sorry, so fucking sorry,” he whispers and then rubs his face into my hair.

“You’re my oxygen,” he murmurs before his lips come back to mine. His strong, warm hand is tender when it cups the nape of my neck. His other hand tightens around my waist, his fingers grasping and pulling me closer. I place my hands on either side of his and then everything else falls away.  

I’ve imagined this kiss. I thought I was prepared for it. But now I know that the myths, the sonnets, the odes to kisses have all been flimsy, feeble, failed attempts to describe the indescribable.

There are no words for the exquisite, explosive moment your lips touch those of the person who is the keeper of your heart.

This is a glorious exhibition of years of wanting.

This is a dormant dream, refusing to be deferred for one more second.

It erupts, disrupts, and gives life to all of my secret, unspoken wishes.

My lips absorb the imprint of his.

Nothing short of his kiss will ever be enough. Not for as long as I live.

When his tongue slides against mine, I tremble and open to him.

It feels like falling off the edge of a cliff.

I would die for Graham to belong to me and me alone. The way I know I’ll always belong to him.

I would wait forever for him.

I would walk through fire.

I would scale mountains and swim oceans. I would let him take everything he needed from me, and then give him more until I had nothing left.

Once upon a time, he had been my compass.

My star.

But, I can’t do this anymore. Not for one more day.

Loving Graham is killing me.

Slowly.

Softly.

Surely.

This time, though, as I fly off the side of the cliff, I know I’ll have to save myself.

Slowly, with an aching reluctance and gnawing regret, my hands slip from his hair. My lips, having had what they want, must now yield to what I need.

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