His voice is so low and raw and just for me. “Please don’t leave me, Kerry Kind. I can’t lose anyone else.” His breath hitches, his grip tightening like he’s terrified I’ll slip away. “I can’t do this without you.”

My heart pounds, and my fingers press into his back. I squeeze my eyes shut as if I’ve been waiting for this for years—to be wanted, to be needed.

“You can’t do what, Vic?”

Slowly, so slowly, he lifts his head. Just enough for our foreheads to touch. Just enough for our lips to be a breath apart. Just enough for me to feel the storm raging inside him. Then his endlessly dark eyes open and drown me in a depth of emotion so devastatingly deep it nearly consumes me.

He threads his fingers through my hair, his thumb skims my jaw, and when he speaks, his voice is barely more than a tremor.

“I can’t wake up without you in my world. I can’t go a day without hearing your voice or seeing your face, without knowing you’re safe. I can’t go a single day without feeling you—somewhere, anywhere.” His forehead presses harder against mine, his breath uneven, his heart pounding so loud I swear it’s calling for me. “I lost the love of my life once, Kerry.” His lips barely graze my cheek, not quite a kiss, just a lingering, desperate hold. “I’ll be damned if I lose it a second time. You’re it for me. The one I was meant to find. My second chance. My forever. I won’t let you slip away.”

His words land like a brand scorching my skin, leaving an imprint so deep it’ll never fade. My breath stutters, and my pulse thrums wildly beneath his touch as he cradles my face. I know what’s coming. I feel it. I want it. But, like I have so many times before, I question whether I deserve what I want so badly.

“But kissing isn’t part of the syllabus.” I whisper.

A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His grip tightens, and his fingers thread deeper into my hair as he tilts my chin just enough to claim every bit of my attention.

His breath fans over my lips. Teasing me, lingering, and daring me to stop him. But I don’t.

“Well, Ms. Kind,” he murmurs, voice rough, deep, devastating, “consider this my extra credit.”

Then, finally, he does it.

Vic’s lips brush against mine, at first soft. A whisper of a kiss. A question. A promise. But the moment I answer, the moment I press back, my world turns upside down. His mouth devours me, slow but deep, like he’s tasting something he’s craved for so long that he forgot what it felt like to be satisfied.