He was caught; he knew it. His whole body tensed as if ready for flight, yet he stayed bow-tense and unmoving, his breathing quick and shallow enough to be virtually undetectable.

She leaned in, carefully pressing her hard-won advantage, knowing it was a tentative thing. Carefully she made contact, brushing her lips across his lightly, testing, before applying more pressure, initiating a true kiss.

He made a helpless noise in his throat as he gave in to her advances at last – a noise that spoke of defeat as well as pleasure. His sooty soft lashes fluttered once against her face, tickling her cheek, before his eyes drifted shut in trusting abandon.

She smiled and leaned more fully against him, pressing him into the rough concrete wall and taking full advantage of his sudden pliability in order to get one step closer to achieving the closeness she’d longed for. Licking his lips, she took control, perfectly happy with that role. With a soft sigh he granted access to her questing tongue.

As the kiss progressed he gave up more and more control, his arms moved of their own volition to allow his fingers to thread loosely through her springy soft curls.