Whispers Of The Heart

Chapter 25

Grayson Lockhart

I kissed her as if I had been waiting for this moment my entire life. In truth, I had—for ten long years.

It all began the day I saw her through my window. Her hair was a vibrant shade of orange, catching the sunlight and making her stand out like a beacon. She had the cutest freckles scattered across her cheeks, and she was waving at me like a maniac. From that moment, I knew I wanted her.

I knew she had to be mine.

Years passed, and my longing only grew stronger. Every time I saw her, my heart would race, my thoughts consumed by her smile, her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy. We were friends, but I always wanted more. I dreamed of this kiss, this moment when I could finally express everything I had kept bottled up inside for a decade.

And now, as our lips met, the world seemed to fade away. There was only her, only us, and the overwhelming feeling of completeness.

My hand caressed the small of her back, drawing her closer until not even a whisper could fit between us . I could feel her warmth, grounding me in this perfect moment.

Her hand found its way to the back of my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair as the kiss deepened.

We were still on the floor, the plush carpet beneath us a stark contrast to the electric intensity of our kiss.

I wove my other hand through her orange, beautiful, hair, savoring every second, every touch.

Each brush of her lips against mine felt magical, a spark that ignited something deep within me. I had wanted this for so long, and now that it was happening, it felt like everything had fallen into place.

This kiss, this moment, was a culmination of years of silent longing and unspoken words. I moved with certainty, a possessiveness that told her she was mine, that she had always been mine.

Every second felt like an eternity, and yet, it wasn't enough.

I could feel the intensity of the moment in every fiber of my being. The way she responded, the way her body melded perfectly against mine, reinforced the feeling that this was right.

This kiss, this connection, was everything I had dreamed of and more. It was perfect, and it felt undeniably, unequivocally right. I could taste the sweetness of her lips, feel the rapid beating of her heart against my chest, and it only fueled my desire further.

I turned so I could be on top, never breaking the kiss.

She responded eagerly, her hands gripping my shoulders as if she never wanted to let go. Her fingers dug into my skin, a silent plea for more, for deeper connection. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of us, tangled in a moment that felt both timeless and all too fleeting.

I felt the softness of her hair against my cheek, the smooth curve of her back under my hands. Every touch, every movement was electric, sending shivers down my spine.

The air was thick with the scent of her perfume. I was intoxicated, lost in the sensation of her warmth and the intoxicating rhythm of our kiss.

But even as I reveled in the sweetness of her lips, a nagging thought tugged at the back of my mind. It started as a whisper, barely audible, but it grew louder and more insistent with every passing second.

"Stay away from Emery. She doesn't need this."

His voice echoed in my head, a stark reminder of the promise I made four years ago. A promise I had never intended to break, until now.