Chapter 4 how it started and how it's going

The initial thoughts that crossed my mind in my disoriented state were incredibly disorganized. They began with a sense of pleasantness, like "Wow, this feels somewhat enjoyable." However, as my mind processed the situation further, I became aware of what was actually happening when he tightened his grip on me and inserted his tongue into my mouth. His hands then moved to remove the veil from my shoulders before he gently held my face. I wanted to react with a slap due to his audacious behavior, but I couldn't deny that he was an exceptional kisser...

I felt an explosion of sensations throughout my entire body, unlike any kiss I had ever experienced, not even with Viru.

In that moment, the name "Viru" crossed my mind. Suddenly, reality crashed back around me, just as the stranger tilted his head and intensified the kiss with a soft, deep moan. The sound was like luxurious velvet, instantly spreading warmth to the depths of my stomach and beyond. Despite struggling to keep my eyes open, my fingers instinctively found his black dress shirt and clung to it, pulling him closer as I responded to his kiss. No... everything about this was wrong. What was I doing? What was he doing?! I instantly raised my hand to push him away when he suddenly caught it midair without even looking. He turned his head then to trail soft kisses against my wrist as his dark brown eyes gazed back at me through his thick lashes. I was not prepared for this...What was this Jedi level of seduction?!

He murmured then almost imperceptibly,

"Were you just about to strike me, mon couer? Haha so spirited. Like a wild pony in ze desert of my heart, but mon Dieu, so violent."

A wild what in his what?

Out of nowhere, he swiftly raised my hand, guiding it to rest around his neck while his other hand, free from any restraint, encircled my back beneath the veil. With his slender fingers, he delicately caressed the exposed skin above my dress, evoking delightful sensations that coursed through my entire being. It was almost overwhelming how incredibly pleasurable it felt. As his head descended, he planted gentle kisses on my neck, leaving tender traces that seemed to intensify the experience. In that moment, he had the power to make me lose all recollection. Who was this enigmatic man?

None of it seemed real, he was far too tall, dark and handsome for this not to feel like some hidden camera moment. And also...he didn't even know for certain if I was a married woman or not. I don't care what I looked like standing up here on this ledge, that didn't give him the liberty to just hop up here and shove his tongue down my throat!

I couldn't...I just couldn't get him to stop kissing me. Was he a con artist? Was I about to get kidnapped? Fucking kidnap me then. Take me, sir.

What are you thinking?! Stop kissing him!

I decided to do the only possible thing I could think of to break his spell over me.

I screamed.

His eyes widened as he immediately released me and took a step back.

"Quoi!" He exclaimed. I had no idea what he said, but I wasn't going to try to figure it out as I began to speak quickly,

"Who the hell are you?! Nobody just goes around kissing people! Do you not see the dress, buddy?! You don't know I don't have a husband!" I said this last statement with the temptation to poke my finger into his chest, yet I halted myself realizing he could easily start seducing me again once he had a hold of me.

He frowned momentarily before turning his head to look around.

"Where iz he?" He asked. Seriously? I couldn't believe this guy. Was this how all French men acted or just him? He didn't seem particularly normal. Maybe he was a kidnapper after all. I should probably go now...

I hopped down from the ledge and pointed towards the lit-up street overhead.

"He's just up there, waiting for me to finish." I lied terribly. I had never been any good at lying, always fumbling for the right words to say that only seemed to come days later when I would obsess over it in my mind.

He lifted one brow dubiously as he turned his gaze towards the direction of my finger. He looked back at me as he casually stepped down from the ledge with both hands in his pockets.

"Finish what? Dying?"

His derisive tone ignited an immediate surge of anger within me, intensifying my growing distress. I was already teetering on the edge of my sanity, and the last thing I needed was this unfamiliar man exacerbating the situation.

"Look asshole, stay away from me do you understand? I don't know you, I don't even know your name and this is all starting to freak me out, ok?" I snapped, backing away from him. He didn't move at all. Simply stood there, watching me in amusement.

He resembled a radiant flame, possessing a captivating beauty that was accompanied by an inherent unpredictability and a scorching heat that could be perilous upon contact. I was utterly uncertain about how to comprehend his nature.

Amidst a chuckle, he gazed into the distance while the wind playfully tousled his dark curls, partially obscuring his eyes. His hands remained comfortably nestled in his pockets as he leaned back on his feet, rhythmically lifting and lowering the heels of his black shoes in a jaunty manner.,

"I am Micheal Lambart. I never had ze intentión of scaring you. I simply saw a damsel who looked like she needed saving. Clearly, I waz mistaken, but before you go, may I ask your name?"

His smile then was devilishly attractive. With his windswept hair and tall, lean frame all dressed in black, I was having a hard time not staring at him. Micheal Lambart. The strange-but-hot French guy with one hell of a mouth. I could easily imagine seeing his face on a cologne ad. Who knew, he was probably on one already.

The way he had spoken had also thrown me off. The tone of his voice made me feel as if he were actually a trustworthy person, as if he could keep me safe somehow. I had the strangest inclination that he did not want me to leave. Feeling suddenly confused and conflicted in my emotions, I heard my own voice answer him.

"Angelina. I'm...Angelina."

His dark brown eyes gazed uncomfortably into mine as if he were staring straight into my soul. He quietly repeated my name with a small smile then.

"Such a beautiful name. So perfect. Your husband iz a lucky...lucky man."

His words caused something inside my heart to suddenly unfurl all over again. I could already feel the floodgates of my tears coming on strong again and there was blessedly nothing I could do to hold them back. I immediately burst into tears again, right in front of him. Just like freaking Viru. It was embarrassing, mortifying, and yet...maybe this would scare him away, I thought sardonically to myself through the horrendous sobs tearing from my throat.

To my astonished surprise, his arms swiftly enveloped me, while he began murmuring soothingly in French, cradling my head against his chest. In that moment, I hesitated only briefly before surrendering to the solace he offered-a chance to release my tears in someone's embrace, a chance to let myself break apart knowing that, strangely, he was there to gather the shattered pieces.

Remarkably, this felt like the most compassionate experience I had ever encountered in my entire life. Despite having just met him, it seemed as if I had known him for countless years. Standing there, pouring out my emotions into the fabric of his dress shirt, I caught a delicate whiff of tobacco entwined with Dior. The intoxicatingly masculine blend of scents left me feeling utterly vulnerable and pliable in his grasp.