What?
Did he just ask if he could kiss me? What?
My heart slammed against my ribs like it was trying to break free. The dim glow of the cinema screen painted Kastiel's face in shifting blues and silvers, but even in the low light, I could see the way his pupils had blown wide, dark with something primal.
His scent, rich smoky cedar was already flooding my senses, making my head swim. My own body was betraying me fast, the familiar warm rush of slick had started pooling between my thighs the second he leaned in close.
"Can I?" He asked again, voice low and rough, like gravel dragged over velvet.
"Yes," I said, but my voice came out more as a whisper, trembling on the edge of a plea.
He didn't rush. He closed the distance slowly, deliberately, giving me every chance to pull away.
When his lips finally brushed mine, it was soft, almost careful, like he was testing how much I could take. The first touch sent a jolt straight down my spine, heat blooming low in my belly.
