Anthony still wasn’t sure what had come over him. He tried as best as possible to think through his actions: to cross reference the fact that Torie was inexperienced, the difficulty of their situation, the fact that she was a lady of pristine reputation, and his own humming desire to not make an ass of himself but— the various facets seemed to conflict as he continued to react on impulse rather than rationality. Her small hands served as encouragement too, as they settled on his shoulders and provided some stability. Anthony ached for this moment to mean something, to reconcile whatever awful rift had formed between them. Could they just erase the past few months and start again?

The feeling of Torie opening up so easily for him as he kissed her a second time almost made Anthony think so.

Her small gasp sent a thrill down his spine. He ought to be ashamed of himself for acting in such a rakish way but instead, the brunette felt a small sense of pride. He was the one insighting these perfect little reactions. Possibly the first, ever. It was a gift in and of itself, an allowance, that he didn’t take lightly. As Torie pressed closer, Anthony’s hand on her thigh brushed further up, more in an attempt to hear that soft gasping noise again than any real intention. With her ankle as it was and the fact that he would not be crossing that line regardless of what happened, he was careful not to move too quickly. Elsewhere, Anthony kissed and explored as much as he was able, urgency giving way to longing. He kissed Victoire with all the ache of a pining, lost puppy finally come home.

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