I take a breath like before plunging into icy water, and cross the remaining distance between us. My lips touch Zeke's, and the simpler parts of my mind enjoy the basic pleasure of that touch, of the smooth softness of his skin.
Those simpler parts of me want more. They want me to hold on to Zeke's neck, to put my fingers into his silky hair. But I force myself to move away.
My movement is stopped by a hand that holds the back of my hand. Zeke's hand doesn't let me move. And the man himself, who stood motionless before now, merely accepting my gesture, now moves in for an attack.
This time his lips don't devour like the previous time we had kissed. Zeke's actions are still full of the simmering hunger, but he has restraint now, too. I feel it in the way he teases my lower lip with his teeth, tastes the corner of my mouth with his tongue, puts another hand on the small of my back.
