Jude's POV
Shock rippled through me when Timothy's lips suddenly pressed against mine. The kiss caught me completely off guard, and I braced myself for that familiar wave of revulsion that always came when a man touched me.
But it never came.
His touch felt different—electric, wanted. Instead of disgust, I craved more. I wanted his hands on me, wanted him closer. The shameless hunger that coursed through me terrified me, so I pushed him back, gasping for air.
"Sorry..." Timothy's voice was soft as he pressed his lips to my forehead. "I shouldn't have kissed you without asking first. That was disrespectful."
Respect. The word sounded foreign coming from someone talking to me. Who bothered respecting the lowest omega? A ruined woman with a bastard child?
Yet here was Timothy, speaking of respecting me. I tried to slip from his embrace—this hope felt too dangerous, too high to fall from.
