Please Kiss Me More

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it held everything she had been trying to hide.
“Please… kiss me more.”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he looked at her—really looked at her—as if making sure she meant it this time. The hesitation, the teasing distance he’d kept before… it faded.
Slowly, he stepped closer.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly.
She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I don’t want to stop.”
That was enough.
He closed the distance, his hand gently lifting her chin as his lips met hers again—this time without hesitation. The kiss was deeper, warmer, filled with a quiet intensity that made her forget everything else.
Her fingers slipped into his hair, holding him closer, as if afraid he might pull away. But he didn’t.
Not now.
His touch lingered at her waist, steady and certain, while their kiss slowed and deepened, unhurried, like they finally had all the time in the world.
Every second stretched, filled with warmth, with closeness, with the kind of feeling that didn’t need words.
When they finally paused, just enough to breathe, she stayed close—her forehead resting against his.
“I meant it,” she whispered.
A faint smile crossed his lips, his thumb brushing softly against her cheek.
“I know.”
And then, without another word… he kissed her again.