I Kiss You Like She Did When You Miss Her

Russell’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes grew even more dazed with emotion as he wrapped me tightly in his arms. “Yes, this emotion… You really are just like her.”

Maybe from this angle, with this level of acting, I was a 99% match to his first love.

I chanted silently in my head, ‘In your next life, Russell, you and that woman better go straight to hell!’

Once again, Russell kissed me uncontrollably. In between breaths, he even took a moment to praise my coach. “He taught you well. You’ve improved.”

Well, of course. You spent a fortune on it. You made sure the coach drilled into me exactly how to kiss a man like your first love did.

I had zero intention of responding to his kiss, but then he started giving me instructions again. “Move. Bite me.”

Then, he cried, “Ah!”

“You told me to,” I said.

“Yeah, just like that! She was just as ruthless.” The expression on his face was one of pure satisfaction.

Just as he was getting lost in the romance of his ‘first love,’ the housekeeper outside the door interrupted at the worst possible moment. “Sir, would you like some dessert?” she asked tentatively.

Russell barely pulled away from my lips. “No need.”

Then, looking straight at me, he smirked. “You’re my dessert. Kiss me. Keep going.”

Something was off with him today. Normally, the moment things got even a little physical, he’d stop before it went too far. Even if he was at his limit, he’d step away and take a cold shower.

And it’s not like he can’t tell me apart from her—he always knows exactly when to draw the line.

But today, he didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. His palm pressed against my belly, and oddly enough, it felt warm.

In a low voice, he murmured, “Your period started?”

Usually, on the first day of my period, I’d be in pain for half a day before any blood actually showed. Russell knew my cycle too well—there was no fooling him.

“Just starting to hurt,” I said.

“Good. Then we can continue.”

“Continue what?”

Before I could protest, he silenced me again. Another suffocating nightmare.

Lost in the moment, Russell whispered a line from a film Bernadette once starred in. “That night, I will never forget… Your body heat, the feel of your skin, the way you looked at me…”

His grip on me tightened, arms pulling me closer and harder.

For a second, I thought he might’ve finally changed—maybe he was actually interested in someone other than his precious Best Actress.

Honestly, if he hadn’t reacted so strongly to me a few times before, I would’ve started wondering if he was into men. Because aside from Bernadette, I’d never seen him show the slightest interest in any woman.

For all I know, that Best Actress was just a convenient cover.

Over the years, plenty of socialites and actresses had thrown themselves at him, but he always turned his nose up at them.

Socialites? He thought they weren’t good-looking enough—too much plastic surgery on their faces.

Actresses? He found them fake, all sweet and delicate online but a whole different person in private.

Like… seriously? What kind of double standard is that? The Best Actress also played a hundred different roles—why wasn’t she “fake”?

And looks? There’s no end to that game. There will always be younger, prettier girls appearing. At the end of the day, it’s about what’s inside.

Those so-called “plain” socialites might not have a face like the Best Actress, but they have money, background, and education.

‘Russell, you want a woman who’s both stunning and smart? You think you can have it all?’

Breathing heavily, he finally let go of me. It was like he was avoiding my gaze.

His voice was tight. “Your health comes first. Forget it.”

For the first time, he was the one who had me blushing and my heart racing.

But the moment I heard those words, my mood plummeted.

‘Dude. You built the mood up this far? When I said no, you wouldn’t stop. But now that I’m actually willing, you just… back off?

‘Are you even a man?’