Lorraine did not expect him to kiss her. Not like this… sudden, fierce, his mouth warm and insistent, filled with want and… something she dared not name.
The mask he wore slipped, just as his pride had.
The kiss deepened when his arms closed around her, lifting her as though he couldn't bear for there to be any space between them. Her arms curled instinctively around his shoulders, and she clung to him as he carried her, his lips never leaving hers, as if the moment would shatter if he let go.
And truth be told, she didn't want him to.
Sylvia's eyes widened at the sight—the princess tangled against the prince, their kiss leaving no doubt where it would lead. "Emma!" she hissed, frantic. "It's time to leave."
"Just one corner left—" Emma, who didn't see past the divider, began, but Sylvia's voice cracked with urgency: "Out. Now!" She was about to step to the bed area.
