Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

flushed through my feet, filled with unspoken everything.
He looks at me with so much emotion I nearly crack in half.
“God, Juliette—”
And he’s kissing me.
Once, twice, until I’ve had a taste and realize I’ll never
have enough. He’s everywhere up my back and over my
arms and suddenly he’s kissing me harder, deeper, with a
fervent urgent need I’ve never known before. He breaks for
air only to bury his lips in my neck, along my collarbone, up
my chin and cheeks and I’m gasping for oxygen and he’s
destroying me with his hands and we’re drenched in water
and beauty and the exhilaration of a moment I never knew
was possible.
He pulls back with a low groan and I want him to take his
shirt off.
I need to see the bird. I need to tell him about the bird.
My fingers are tugging at the hem of his wet clothes and
his eyes widen for only a second before he rips the material
off himself. He grabs my hands and lifts my arms above my
head and pins me against the wall, kissing me until I’m sure
I’m dreaming, drinking in my lips with his lips and he tastes
like rain and sweet musk and I’m about to explode.
My knees are knocking together and my heart is beating
so fast I don’t understand why it’s still working. He’s kissing
away the pain, the hurt, the years of self-loathing, the
insecurities, the dashed hopes for a future I always pictured
as obsolete. He’s lighting me on fire, burning away the
torture of Warner’s games, the anguish that poisons me
every single day. The intensity of our bodies could shatter
these glass walls.
It nearly does.
For a moment we’re just staring at each other, breathing
hard until I’m blushing, until he closes his eyes and takes
one ragged, steadying breath and I place my hand on his
chest. I dare to trace the outline of the bird soaring across