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

I’m staring at a point in the blackness, my mind tortured
by possibilities. “How can you be sure?”
His lips are so close to mine. “Because you still give a
damn about the world.”
I gasp and he’s kissing me, deep and powerful and
unrestrained. His arms wrap around my back, dipping my
body until I’m practically horizontal and I don’t care. My
head is on the seat, his frame hovering over me, his hands
gripping my hips from under my tattered dress and I’m
licked by a million flames of wanting so desperate I can
hardly inhale. He’s a hot bath, a short breath, 5 days of
summer pressed into 5 fingers writing stories on my body.
I’m an embarrassing mess of nerves crashing into him,
controlled by one current of electricity coursing through my
core. His scent is assaulting my senses.