"You may now kiss the bride," the preacher said smiling at us.
I turned my head and realized he wasn't looking at the altar anymore, Mikhail was looking at me.
His gaze, attentive and prolonged without a word–staring right at me and as if stars were reflected on it, his eyes glimmering. He stretched his hand to me touching my face gently.
As if we have all the time in the world, he caressed my face, slowly, from one side to another. It made my skin prickle, heat rushing in at me.
Without breaking the eye contact, he traced his hand lower down to my neck, every touch made my skin alive.
Caressing my face softly, I felt my whole body burning from the inside at his order.
I froze, every time, bating my breath, afraid to move; I couldn't contain the rush of feelings inside of me.
I outstretched my hand slowly and slid my hand down his face, mirroring him.
His deep blue ocean eyes, glimmering at me like reflected stars on the ocean, Mikhail leaned in, pressing his soft pink lips at mine before letting me go slowly. Pulling away from the kiss he smiled tracing my lips with his finger.
"Have you had roses and chocolates? Tastes like it," he said playfully with a smirk lifting my hand with his.
