{ "The moment of love is a fleeting glimpse of eternity."}
Her eyes searched mine like she was looking for permission I couldn't give but desperately wanted to. And then, she leaned in, her lips pressed to mine, gentle at first. The breath I'd been holding slipped out of me like a ghost. My thoughts scattered like leaves in a windstorm.
She tasted like everything I'd spent years trying not to need. Rain and steel and something impossibly sweet. Gods. Her scent hit me all at once, that subtle wildflower softness hidden under layers of leather and resolve. It curled around my senses, sank its claws into me, and wouldn't let go. My restraint shattered, and I kissed her back harder, deeper, like I could make up for all the nights I lay awake thinking of her. My hands found her waist, then her back, pulling her against me like I was afraid she'd disappear if I didn't hold tight enough.
"Belle," I breathed against her mouth, voice wrecked and wanting.
