Chapter 27
GIANNA
I woke up still feeling his lips on mine.
The surge of sunlight his kiss filled me with still lingers in my veins, running and sparkling just under my skin.
I still saw him there by my bed, his bright eyes shining even in the darkness as he leaned down to give me the kiss I asked for.
It was definitely one of those life-giving kisses.
The kind that wakes the princess from a deathly coma she’d been in.
And that’s exactly what happened to me. I’ve never felt so alive as I do this morning. Maybe he broke my curse.
But I just don’t actually know if it was real or just a very realistic dream.
I’ve been pacing the apartment since I woke up, trying to figure that out. And decide what is real and what is not. What is important and what is not.
Chiara and Lidia are at breakfast with Mom and Dad, but I excused myself because I’m sure I couldn’t keep any food down, not in the state I’m in.
There’s only one way to get the answers to all my questions. He’s out there, guarding my door. I know because I checked a few times already. And the only way I’ll know if I just dreamed the kiss is to go out there and get another.
It’s dangerous. It’s forbidden. But it’s also impossible to fight.
So I grab the trashcan from my room. There are only a few cotton balls in there, smeared with the makeup I took off last night. He’ll take one glance at it and know I’m only using it as an excuse. But what do I care? I certainly won’t after I get one more kiss.
He stands to attention as I appear beside him in the hallway, his sunshine eyes traveling all over my body, warming me, leaving sweet tingles in their wake.
I’m still wearing my pajamas—sleep shorts and a tank top, without even a robe over it.
I should’ve put more clothes on, but I wasn’t thinking.
And the way he’s looking at me clearly says that what I’m wearing is just perfect.
“Good morning,” he says and I smile as I say it back.
“A trash run?” he asks. I nod and start walking down the hall, my heart hammering in my chest, my entire back feeling like I’m lying naked in the sun as he follows me.
He holds the door to the trash room open for me and follows me in, letting it close again. The room is not large to begin with, but with both of us inside, it feels even smaller, filled as it is with sweet, hot tension that’s making my head spin.
The trash can I’m holding slips from my fingers, the cotton balls rolling across the floor as he towers over me, pinning me to the wall with just the sheer force of his presence.
He’s not actually touching me, yet I feel locked in, trapped, but in the best way possible.
My lips tingle in anticipation of touching his.
“You wanted more,” he says and it’s not a question.
“Yes, I’d like another kiss,” I whisper, answering it anyway, happy to find out last night’s visit wasn’t just a dream.
Even though this feels like a dream too.
Like I’ve stepped out of my boring life into this one, a magical one, the kind all those romantic movies try to show, but fail, I now know.
He runs his hand down my cheek and the surge of warmth from it travels straight through my core, making my nipples tingle and my pussy come to life in a way that’s never done without being touched.
I crave his touch there. I crave it everywhere.
And the craving only grows more intense as his lips touch mine.
Last night was my first kiss.
This is my second.
But I’m not even worried that I’m doing something wrong.
I’m just letting him lead, the waves of pleasure and bliss intensifying as his tongue enters my mouth, playing with mine, making me sigh and moan and lean towards him, needing to be closer.
Needing more. Needing to feel his lips and his touch everywhere.
His strong thigh is between my legs. I long to press against it, get some release that way.
But he grabs my waist and pushes me back against the wall when I do. Breaking the kiss. It feels like I’ve been plunged into an ice-cold bath.
“You are eager, aren’t you?” he asks, the darkness in his eyes reminding me of sunlight glinting off a frozen lake.
I lean my head forward for another kiss instead of answering with words.
“Not here,” he says, releasing me. “Not like this.”
“But I…”
“No,” he says and takes a step back, opening the door in the process. “Not in a room that reeks of garbage.”
“Will you come to me later?” I whisper as I pass him.
“Nothing will stop me,” he whispers back.
And the raw need in his voice makes me feel like the most special girl in all the world.
Like the princess in any of the fairytales.
Maybe his kiss last night already worked, already broke my curse.
I think maybe it did. But the one we just shared certainly did.
Because it was magical. No other word to describe it.
And I need more of that magic. I’ll never get enough of it.