I had only intended a light peck, I swear. It wasn't supposed to end up this way. Feel this good.

   The moment my lips pressed against Dorian's for the first time, I began sinking fast. Sinking into the surprising softness his lips carried, his intense body warmth that was suddenly a sheet around mine, into his signature coconut-lemon scent, more intoxicating than ever.

   But that wasn't what sent me over the edge.

   After seconds had passed with his lips unresponsive, I had been ready to pull away and bask in shame.

   But then, his hands snaked to the back of my neck, triggering a shiver from my end. That didn't stop him though. Dorian, with his lips still motionless against mine, took several steps forward until I was pressed against the wall again.

   Dorian's smooth hands slid from behind my neck to cup my chin. In less than a second, my head was tipped back and that's when his lips began moving.

   And that was what set me off.

   His kiss was in no way similar to mine. Dorian's lips parted mine slowly and with care at first, then upon assuming a dominant firmness, went deeper and deeper. His mouth became even more insistent when my fingers, still draped around him, moved— in an impulsive response to his gesture— to tug on the ends of his now dishevelled black hair.

   I could taste, smell and feel every part of Dorian Mathers as I kissed him back but it still wasn't enough. Every nerve within me was a wild unrest. My finger tugged at his soft hair further and harder, to feel more of him, more of his hellish heat. At that moment, the idea of getting burned was the least of my problems.

   His hands, on the other hand, had long migrated from my face and pulled my frame against his. They were currently roaming around every inch of my body I allowed. Which was... well, everywhere.

   If I thought I wanted him before, Beth from the past should definitely see me now.

   When we finally pulled away, it was no surprise that we were both gasping for air. It was funny how breathing didn't even come to mind a second ago.

   My heart needed a minute to recover from this one. If that was ever going to happen, that is. I still couldn't look at him, for Pete's sake!

   And it didn't help that his arms and parts of his body still had me plastered against the wall.

"Beth," Dorian eventually filled the silence between with a deep toned whisper of my name.

"Dorian," Even before speaking out, I knew there was nothing coherent my mind could come up with. "Dorian, I, um—"

   He cut my words short by pressing his forehead on mine. The perspiration that had broken out on his forehead collided with the sweat on mine. After shutting my eyes to revel in his gesture, it was only then that I realised how really warm the room was.

   Or maybe it was just us.

   I wasn't sure whether to be confused or sad when Dorian ceased contact with our heads, but I said nothing as I finally got the guts to stare at him.

   Still holding me, he released a shaky sigh before eventually breathing out the word, "Fuck."

   I knew there and then, from the way he just uttered that word, that I had some form of effect on him. That what I was feeling wasn't one sided in the least. I know, the kiss should've been my first clue, but you never know.

   That thought of Dorian sharing my feelings was accompanied by a tingling sensation within me that wasn't easy to downplay.

   As I observed the pained yet longing look that accompanied Dorian's slightly swollen, cherry red lips and out of place hairstyle caused by my fingers, I noticed that his hard breathing, though receding, hadn't slowed down.

"Beth?"

"Yeah?" My stomach lurched at how close he still was.

"I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have..."

   And just like that, the atmosphere turned frosty cold.

   I pushed Dorian away from me as his words kept replaying in my head. Still backed up against the wall with my face falling, I waited for a wave of regret over what we'd just done to wash over me that never came.

   Instead, the pangs of rejection took its course. My heart that was previously racing, dropped at an alarming rate. Shame creeped in not too long after, burning through my skin and forcing my head towards the rubber carpeted floor.

"Did you say Camila's room was ready for me earlier?" I looked up to ask. "Because I'm supposed to be with Rav tonight."

   Was I humiliated beyond words? Yes. But I sure as hell wasn't going to let him see that.

   He appeared taken aback at my sudden question but wore a straight face when replying, "Y-Yeah, Camila."

"Great."

   As I headed toward the exit, I made sure to avoid his eyes throughout. He wasn't going to get to me. Not like he had before. Not agai— My thoughts were disrupted as I felt a warm hand grab mine from behind. My attempts to wiggle out of it were futile.

"Beth, I just want to say something."

   But that didn't stop me from jerking my hand away harder. Why was he doing this? He already got what he wanted and screwed me over. Wasn't that enough? What more could he possibly say that would make me feel worse than I already did?

   After my last failed attempt to make Dorian let go, I inhaled a sharp breath before finally turning around to face him. If he wanted me to listen, fine. What he shouldn't expect was a response from my end.

"What I mean is..." Dorian's hand released mine to brush over his troubled facial expression as a sigh escaped him. "I'm sorry for not restraining myself."

   I merely nodded, turning toward the door again and placing a hand over its knob.

"But I'm not sorry for kissing you."

   My grip on the door loosened.

   Out of the blue, it was a struggle trying to suppress the wild comeback of everything I just felt minutes ago when Dorian had me cornered against the wall.

   When I faced him again, the absence of his previous pinched expression startled me. Unlike before, his eyes bore straight into mine without flinching, holding a level of certainty I didn't expect.

   It didn't take much time for my shock, however, to be substituted by bubbling annoyance. What kind of sick game was he playing? Did he think it was funny to throw around conflicting words?

   I needed to get out of here before I could feel worse than I already did.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry this happened while you were still grieving over Talise, but not that it happened," he blurted out as I opened the door. "I wouldn't change that moment for anything. Even though I know you will regret it tomorrow."

   Hold up... what?

   Closing the door shut, I turned to face him again.

"Why are you so certain I'll regret it tomorrow?"

   He cast an aggrieved look my way right before replying, "Beth, I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through with Talise gone. The extent to which you feel about all this. I know you only kissed me as a form of release from the heartbreaking emotions that overwhelmed you today and it—"

"Dorian," My face etched into a frown as I stared up at him. "You think I was using you?"

   His glance in my direction shifted to the floor.

   I'll admit it wasn't really the best time for me to go for it and kiss Dorian and that it was through no fault of his for feeling the way he did.

   That, however, still wasn't enough to get rid of the hurt that arose at the thought of him doubting everything that happened between us. Did this also mean he thought I was using him when we lay on the bed and I told him the story of how I met Talise?

   From Dorian's reaction to my question, it was clear he genuinely believed I only saw him as a warm body I needed till I felt better.

   And, even with all that insecurity, he'd still stuck around. Dorian still laid beside me while I told him about Talise and just wholly admitted he didn't regret kissing me.

   At this point, I wasn't even sure whether to be offended by the way he thought I saw him or marvel at how Dorian was far from the cold, insensitive jerk I believed him to be.

"I'll walk you to Camila's. Come on," he said, walking past me and towards his room's door.

   I stared at the hallway that the now opened door revealed for a while, then moved my eyes to Dorian.

   I didn't want to be offended.

   I just wanted him.

   Placing my palm over Dorian's hand that was currently on the back of the door, I pushed until a resounding click was heard. Fully aware that Dorian's bewildered eyes were fixed on my gesture, I detached our hands without sparing him a single glance.

"Beth," he spoke like his throat was tightened. "What are you doing?"

"When I wake up tomorrow," I swallowed. "I want to be the first one you see. So that you'll know that there'll never be an ounce of regret within me over what we did today."

   I made sure to maintain a non budging stance, even though my legs were more than ready to give out. A large part of me was also still trying to process what I'd just done. The air in the room seemed to be everywhere else around me. Nervous heat followed soon after, gradually spreading from its origin in my gut.

   I had never seen Dorian—or anyone, for that matter—look so torn. He looked at me wide eyed, rested his head against the door in an upward tilt and closed his eyes. Then, the most audible breath that could be described to be between a groan and growl emitted from him,

"Okay." Dorian's voice was normal as he reverted to his position before me with folded arms. "Where would you like to sleep? Bed or couch?"

   I didn't hesitate.

"Bed. With you."

A/N: I'm not the only one who loves slowburns like these am I? 

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