She moved towards him slowly until there was barely a breath of space between them. His gaze was like molten lava, but in the line of his jaw, the slight tautness of his mouth, she saw a distance � a disbelief in her actions. She placed her hands on either side of his chest, just below his shoulders and after the slightest hesitation, raised her lips to his. An open flush of desire lit his face as he believed finally in the reality of her intentions.

She pillowed his bottom lip between her own and curved one hand against his neck, her fingers entwining in the ebony curls there. And although he kissed her back -- his mouth opening to accept her exploration, savor the feel of her lips, drown in the taste of her -- he still held a part of himself in reserve � waiting, waiting for her to pull back, pull away from him. But she did not. Instead, she rubbed her hand against the side of his throat and moved closer to him, her body molding to his form, as her kiss grew more passionate.

His reserve melted away. One hand rose and softly, reverently cupped her face, his fingers lovingly caressing her tender flesh. She gripped the material of his jacket tighter and their kiss grew more impassioned, and the two of them were lost in a haze of unforeseen, unplanned desire, ensnared in a spell of sensual eroticism.

Suddenly, for her, it was too much and so her lips parted one last time as she pulled away, stepping back, breaking the spell. His mouth followed in need, wanting to re-establish their connection. But it was over - the spell was broken � the haze had cleared. Still, the memory remained, evidenced in their shared heavy breathing, the misty glaze of their eyes, the moist parting of their lips.