Kerrigan Byrne

The ghost of a boy long dead, and yet who lived on. Perhaps not in name, or perhaps in name only.

His dark eye flashed the moment before his hard mouth bore down on hers. His kiss felt like a punishment, but for what she couldn’t be sure. Because he wanted her? Because she wanted him?

When the pressure became too much, Farah made a sound of distress, and he broke the kiss.

Their next kiss they shared with the tilt of a smile, their teeth softly rasping against one another’s as he spread the corset beneath her and pinched the hem of her chemise.