That’s what Marcus first thought of when his eager lips met Ysabelle’s. He had almost convinced himself that he was already devouring the lunch table’s dessert as she tasted of sweet honeyed strawberries and the curve of her lips were moist and velvety like a chocolate cake. With all the willpower he could muster up, he didn’t use it to stop this moment. Instead, when he found her unsteady, trying to push him lightly away with both of her hands, he snaked a hand in the small of her back and pressed her closer to his body. His back was against the balustrade to stabilize them at least for any possible imbalance. A fall down to the base of the stairs would be unlucky indeed, not to mention painful.
There was still some tiny pang of guilt a priest like him was expected to feel when treading on restricted boundaries, but true enough, it didn’t rack his mind. His logical reasoning was already clouded in the first place. His sole focus was on her, a woman in his arms, and how she tasted in his mouth. He could well be killed by lightning anytime if the Heaven’s above didn’t approve of this, but what the heck, he was ready to die anyway... for her.
Yes, for her.
And him be damned, he doesn’t even know the reason why.