Vesty Shadows
Madeline
His lips claimed mine like he was afraid I might vanish if he wasn’t careful. There was no fire, not yet—just a slow, steady growing warmth. Just a weight. Just the slow exhale of a man who had been holding his breath for far too long.
I didn’t rush him. Didn’t ask for more than this.
My fingers rose to the side of his neck and found the steady thrum beneath his skin. His pulse fluttered under my touch like wings caught in a storm. He breathed my name again, lower this time. More grounded. A sound like gravel and honey, like something he’d buried deep and was finally brave enough to unearth.
“Madeline…”
He pulled back just far enough to look at me, and my breath caught in my throat. It was all there in his eyes—remorse, hunger, devotion twisted with a thread of
