Richard cupped my face gently, pressing his lips to mine.

This kiss wasn't filled with passion or lust. It was soft, tender, and full of warmth.

He looked at me like a man on a pilgrimage, his gaze worshipful and sincere.

I wanted to push him away, to make him stop. But it was as if all the strength had drained out of me.

When the kiss finally ended, Richard held me close, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Sophia, your lips are ...