Chapter 20

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For a moment I'm just looking into Cupid's eyes, his face a mere breath away from mine. Every sense in my body feels heightened, everything feels more intense – the lure of his body heat, his scent of cologne and perspiration, the way that the dim light from my table lamp highlights golden flecks in his ruffled hair.

He doesn't feel like talking.

My stomach clenches at the intensity of his gaze.

There's a part of me that thinks we should talk – we should talk about Valentine, about the cupids that attacked me, about how there's still a part of me that wonders if I can fully trust him.

But the other part of me just wants to kiss him. I think a part of me always wants that. If I'm honest I think it's been like that since the first moment saw him, back in class on that first day – though it took me a while to admit that to myself.

My pulse is racing as, very slowly, he moves even closer. I'm not sure if there's something within me that is being drawn toward him, or whether physically my body is pulled to his by the dip in the mattress where he lies. But I find that our legs are touching, and my hand, seemingly of its own accord, reaches out to touch his chest. He breathes in sharply.

We should talk the voice inside of me that's saying it is quieter – drowned out by the thudding of my heartbeat that fills my ears. I can feel his heartbeat too, through his grey top – fast, excited, vulnerable.

His eyes darken as I look up at him.

And then, very softly, he brushes his lips against mine.

My mouth parts in response, and my body seems to melt into him. My stomach clenches. His fingers slip into my hair, as slowly he moves his mouth against mine. He slides his hand down to the small of my back, my skin tingling through my pajama top at every spot that he touches, and he pulls me closer to him. A groan escapes from his lips as I slip my tongue against his.

As we continue to kiss his breathing becomes heavy, ragged, yet still his mouth moves slowly – as though he's exercising some restraint, as though he's trying to control himself. The day-old stubble on his face brushes softly against my skin – a different sensation than I'm used to - and as his hot kiss deepens my pulse races. I feel like my veins are filled with fire.

I don't know how long we do this for, our mouths moving against each other with increasing ferocity, my fingers gripping onto the front of his shirt as though I'm afraid to let him go. All I know is that I don't want to stop. I feel like I did when we were trapped in the labyrinth, when Lust took over us. Only there's no supernatural force at work here, there's only us. Me and him. Our bodies melting into each other, his strong hand planted possessively on my hip, his thumb brushing against my bare skin where my pajama top has risen up slightly.

He rolls me onto my back leaning over me as he continues to explore my mouth with his tongue. Gently I nibble his bottom lip and he groans against my face.

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