Jane Sampson didnāt calm down until after she had entered the elevator. By this time, sweat had formed on her forehead, and she felt a bit hot.
Janeās gaze rested on the hand that James Black had been holding the whole way. She kind of wanted to pull it back to fan herself and dissipate some of the heat, but just as the thought arose, James Blackās voice suddenly came from beside her ear.
"What are you looking at?" James asked.
"Nothing," Jane responded quickly, as her heart followed with the thought.
Well, might as well die of heat then.
The elevator stopped on the top floor, and with James leading the way, he opened the door with the key he held in his other hand.
James entered first, then stood in the entryway without hurrying to change shoes. Following him inside, Jane closed the door and bent down to change into slippers.
She had only changed one slipper when she noticed James standing still next to her. She looked up at him with a puzzled expression.
It was nothing more than a brief eye contact, but suddenly James pulled her up and pressed her against the door panel. Jane blinked at James, about to ask what he was doing.
Unexpectedly, before she could voice her question, Jamesās lips suddenly descended upon hers.
With overwhelming momentum, like a mountain landslide.
His kiss was somewhat impatient. He sucked on her lips forcefully and then bit her lightly; the next second, his tongue invaded and conquered her defenses without restraint.
Jane was frozen in place, thinking James must have developed a bad habit of kissing her on impulse.
But she found that she wasnāt at all averse to the sensation of James kissing her.
She didnāt dislike the touch of his lips against hers.
She didnāt dislike the temperature of his saliva on her lips and teeth.
She didnāt even dislike the domineering way his tongue claimed its territory.
Jane wondered if kissing naturally possessed some kind of magic that made people succumb to it?
Did this magic not depend on who it was or when it happened?
Moving as if possessed, Jane timidly touched Jamesās tongue with her own, and she distinctly felt Jamesās body tremble violently before he paused.
He simply stopped his movements but did not pull away.
Her heart was thumping furiously, as if it might jump out of her chest.
It was more intense than the acute high altitude disease she experienced in the small town.
Her hands quietly held onto Jamesās waist, and her breathing became heavier, yet she dared not lift her eyes to look at him.
Jane had no idea how long James had paused.
Was it just a few seconds?
Or a long minute?
She could feel one of his hands wrap around her waist and the other lightly lift her chin.
And like that, she was forced to meet his gaze.
His breath was hot.
Even his gaze seemed to be hot.
His kiss came at her once more, this time even more ferocious than before.
Their breaths entangled, from light to heavy, until at last she almost uncontrollably held her breath.
This was the first time Jane understood that kissing wasnāt just about one person.
She could feel that James liked her responsiveness, liked the mingling and touching of their tongues.
This was also the first time Jane understood that sentence written in the book.
Kissing is the touching of two souls.
Neither knew how long they had stood in the doorway, held each other, or kissed.
By the time James ended the kiss, Janeās lips were already swollen.
Her little face was flushed, as if she had just finished a run, looking very endearing.