Page 55 of The Widower
“Is that your third question?” I teased, trying to keep it light, but the irony came out shaky, masking the nervousness clawing at my chest.
I don’t know if it was the challenge in my tone or the way I refused to look away, but something in Colin snapped. He moved fast—too fast—and before I could react, he pinned me against the wall.
The shock of the cold surface against my back made me gasp, but the heat of him swallowed it whole. His body pressed against mine, his scent surrounding me, the sound of my breath catching in my throat—and then his mouth was on mine. No warning. No hesitation. Just raw, reckless urgency.
The kiss was rough, uneven, a mess of anger and want. His mouth moved over mine with hunger, like he wanted to punish me and lose himself in me all at once. Maybe that was exactly what he was doing.
My hands, trapped between us, couldn’t decide whether to push him away or pull him closer. The confusion melted into the shiver running through me. Colin kissed like a man at war—with pain, with passion, with everything he’d been holding back.And I… I gave in. Completely.
He tasted sharp and hot and addictive. His lips were firm, his tongue deliberate, each movement tearing a little more of my resistance apart. I could feel his heartbeat racing against mine, his body tense, control slipping through the cracks of our breathless gasps.
He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and the world vanished. There was nothing but the sound of our breathing, the brush of skin, and the shrinking space between us.
Then the kiss changed—from fury to desperation. It felt like he was trying to say everything he didn’t dare admit out loud.
And no matter how hard I tried to make sense of him, there was no logic in that man.
One moment he pushed me away, the next he pulled me closer. One second he was the edge of a cliff, the next he was the place I could fall.
My hands finally broke free and found the back of his neck, and the moment my fingers touched his skin, something in him ignited. He groaned softly into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, dizzying.
The wall was cold, but everything else burned.
The kiss slowed, but it didn’t lose its intensity—it just shifted. It became something deeper, something that felt toomuch like surrender. Like rediscovering everything I’d tried so hard to bury.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, he kept his face close, lips grazing mine as his voice came out rough, thick with everything he wasn’t saying.
“You drive me insane…” he murmured, his warm breath brushing my skin.
For a moment, neither of us moved. We just stayed there—caught in the heavy air, in what was left of the kiss. His heartbeat thudded hard against my chest, and the heat radiating from him made it hard to breathe.
He kept his gaze locked on mine, those dark eyes intense, unflinching. When his hand slid up the side of my neck, a shiver tore through me. His touch was firm but careful, like he was testing how far he could go.
“Colin…” I whispered, but my voice came out weak, lost.
He leaned in, his nose brushing my skin until it reached my lips. The feather-light touch made me forget how to breathe.
His fingers sank lightly into my hair, his other hand steady at my waist, keeping me pinned against the wall.
When he kissed me again, it was slow this time—measured, deliberate, dangerously tender. Like he wanted to savor every second, to explore every reaction. The soft drag of his lips was subtle but deep enough to steal the air from my lungs.
My skin was on fire. The world tilted, spinning slower with each breath. The cold wall at my back only made his warmth feel hotter.
His fingers traced up the back of my neck, stopping at my jaw, guiding the kiss, deepening it. His touch was sure, yet there was a kind of gentleness that undid me completely.
When we finally pulled apart, just barely, he didn’t move away. His forehead rested against mine, his gaze holding me still as he whispered, voice low and raw—
“You have no idea what you do to me…”
I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath, but he didn’t give me the chance. His lips found mine again, and the kiss became a rhythm of push and pull—somewhere between restraint and hunger, between wanting and trying to stop.
His breath mingled with mine, and when Colin’s hands gripped my waist, every rational thought I had vanished.
All that remained was the sound of our barely contained desire… and the sharp, terrifying certainty that if he didn’t stop now, I wouldn’t be able to either.
As if he’d read my mind, Colin suddenly pulled back and looked straight into my eyes.
“Still think I don’t like your kiss?”
