"How much more? Tell me, Luce. Spare me from this torment I've been drowning in for the past two years. Tell me," he murmurs, the cadence of his voice changed. It's more suave, more... God, my face must be burning, and despite my injury, I don't think I have a fever. No, it's him—only him. It's his nearness when I've only dreamed about it before. It's his voice that makes me melt with every syllable he utters. And it's his intense gaze that has me pinned to the spot, so hungry and so desperate. It's almost as if he is drowning and I'm the only one who can save him.

"I was in love with you," I confess.

"Was?" he asks darkly.

"Am," I whisper.

A slow smile runs across his mouth, one that is as blinding as it is terrifying, and before I know it, his lips are on mine. His kiss is fierce and unrelenting, just like this side of Nikki I haven't known before. And though in the beginning I'm startled by this foreign sensation, I can't help but give in.

He's Nikki. He's my Nikki. The only man I'd ever allow such liberties because he owns my body just as he owns my heart.

His lips part over mine, his tongue skimming the seam of my mouth. At first, I'm confused about what he means to do, but as he brushes his tongue against mine, my entire body hums, a terrifying sensation enveloping me. One that threatens to overwhelm me with feeling.

Yet just as the kiss starts, it's over. He tears himself from me, his breathing accelerated, his features contorted in pain.

"Nikki?" I ask softly, bringing my hand to my lips.

"I'm sorry."

"I—What happened? Was it...bad?" I barely utter the last word as hopelessness forms inside me.

"Bad? What? No. It was too good, Luce. But I've been living for the past two years on your memory alone and that kiss... If we don't stop, we might never stop, and it's not the time for that. Not only do we have something to do, but..." He scrubs his face with his hand. "You're you, and that means you deserve more than just a quick tumble in the hay. You're also hurt." He shakes his head. "God, I'm a fucking idiot," he curses out.

I watch him in confusion, not understanding half of what he's saying.

"So you didn't dislike it?" I ask, needing direct confirmation.

"I loved it. Like I love you," he says, his piercing gaze meeting mine just as his hand comes up to caress my cheek. "Was it your first kiss?" he inquires before I can recover from his confession. His voice is tense, almost as if he's already hating my answer.

I give him a slow nod.

He lets out a relieved breath.

"Good. Good," he repeats, more to himself. "You saved those lips for me, didn't you, Luce?"