Chapter 33: Six

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(Note: uuuh I don't remember the triggers but it's about to get real guys)





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Lauren
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Have you ever experienced the feeling of falling from really high up? I had never been skydiving, but I'd read articles about it. Popular opinion stated that the first jump was always the most memorable—a once-in-a-lifetime feeling. The intense fear, mixed with the exhilaration of free fall, created the perfect cocktail of an adrenaline high.

That was what it felt like to kiss Peter Ducane.

It was over quickly. My heels reunited the ground, forcefully removing my lips from his. It more of a peck than anything, but that didn't stop my heart from doing little flip-flops.

Peter stared down at me with a bewildered expression, unblinking with his jaw slack. The only sounds audible in the room was the pounding of my own rapid heartbeat.

His stare burned a hole through me, swallowing my elation and replacing it with a sinking feeling that knotted my stomach. Why wasn't he saying anything? Did he hate it that much? Fear summersaulted my stomach. Fuck, what if I had read the situation all wrong? Was what we shared that night at the Foundry a mistake? Oh. Shit. It wasn't just a mistake. The simple truth hit me with shocking clarity. He didn't want me.

I'd messed up. Fuck. Fuck, what should I do?

Mortification sent me lurching out of his grasp. "S-Sorry," I stammered, my arms raised in defense as fear scattered all of my earlier courage. I'd just crossed a line with him—a big one. Getting caught up in my feelings was one thing, but what I just did led to something far, far more frightening. "I'm . . .  I-I didn't . . . okay, look, I know I shouldn't have—"

I didn't get to finish my sentence. This man had a knack for catching me off guard because before I could finish my frantic backpeddalling, he abruptly seized my nape, hauled me back to him, and crashed our lips together.

The second his mouth was on mine, every insecure thought evaporated and I was back in the sky. My eyes fluttered shut as I moaned into him, a fire igniting in the pit of my stomach. The kiss was messy, sloppy, everything that I imagined that it would be. Our teeth clashed together almost painfully, but neither of us cared enough to stop. Peter's back muscles flexed as he crowded me against the wall, all that power being used to pull me closer. Raking my fingers through his hair, my entire body melted into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. An approving moan resounded through him at the contact.

Yep. I was right the first time. Kissing Peter Ducane was utterly intoxicating. Butterflies erupted in my stomach, soaring high. How the hell had I gone this long without this? I'd kissed a couple of my exes, but nothing could hold a candle to this. The way he kissed me bordered on desperate, like he couldn't get enough. Damn, I loved it. I sucked his lower lip into my mouth, a groan reverberating through the air.

Changing the angle, he took my mouth deeper, leaving us both breathless as we battled for dominance. Surrender was inevitable, and I mewled as he snatched away any control I had. A gasp escaped me when his demanding hands found my ass and picked me up off the ground. My back reconnected with the wall, zings of ecstasy radiating down my body as my legs locked around his wide hips.

Taking the opportunity, he delved his tongue into my mouth, our bodies plastered tightly together. A groan launched from my throat as I accepted him greedily, his taste exploding on my tongue—smoky bonfire and crisp, clean mint. He was here, right in front of me. Peter Ducane was alive. This beautiful villain. My monstrous ruin. And here I was, kissing the hell out of him. How could I not when I was drowning and he was the one thing keeping me afloat?

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