One thing led to another, and the kisses didn't end with one peck.
At first, it was light—soft brushes of lips that barely lingered. But each time Grayson leaned in again, it lasted a heartbeat longer.
After a few times, Grayson leaned in again, but this time much slower and unhurried. It was like he already knew that Neville wouldn't pull away.
"You—" Neville said, voice low.
Grayson didn't pull away after a kiss. He just hovered there, close enough that Neville could feel his breath.
He hummed in amusement, his lips brushing Neville's again.
Neville pulled back slightly. "You're doing this on purpose."
Grayson smiled against his mouth. "Doing what?"
"That—" Neville muttered, barely getting the word out before another kiss landed.
This kiss brushed his lips again, softer, almost innocent. Neville felt it sink in sweetly to his heart, prickling dangerously. Each fleeting kiss felt like a challenge to his bottom line—asking how much he would allow before snapping.
