Chapter 37

It was like a panic attack, as if she was choking, tears shuddering inside her. She was this contrary bundle in his arms, tense then pliant, sobbing but distant. He felt her push him away and then he felt her head on his chest, felt the dampness of tears then her furious withdrawal as she wrestled away. And he let her go but she came back and so he —he kissed her.

It infuriated her that this was his answer, enraged her so she pushed him and then wriggled away, appalled. Except it had helped. His mouth, his tongue had flicked her thoughts from pain to pleasure and then he’d stopped.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn't have,”

But Camille wasn’t—the room was suddenly too small, her emotions were so big, and she couldn’t think, she just couldn’t stand to think, so she reached for him and kissed again —hard. Pressed her red, angry face to his and kissed his mouth fiercely, forcing his lips apart with her tongue.

“Hey,” He pulled down her hands, that were