It only took him a second to pull away. Hurt flashed in his eyes.
“Do not do this. Not again, please. Do not offer me your lips when you know I cannot have the rest of you.”
She blinked, then she nodded.
“You are right, I don't— I don't want you. I’m angry— you lied to me and I’m angry still— very angry— I should go before I do something that— I—” Her actions contradicted her words because with every pause, her grip on his collar tightened and she pulled closer to her, her gaze heated on his lips.
A drunken desire flashed in her eyes and he tilted his head in confusion, his gaze dark and observant.
“You are not drunk.” He stated.
He had followed her around during the Feast and she had taken no alcohol. He was sure of it.
“I am not drunk,” her reply was a whisper. “Kiss me, Eli.”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “It is not only your lips I desire, Donna.”
“I know,” her blue eyes were filled with… longing?
