Lady Sophie's Christmas Wish

never seeing her again, never seeing Kit discover the joy of independent locomotion, never hearing the boy chortle

late he was anchoring her for the real kiss, for the press of his open mouth over hers, for the startling warmth of his tongue insinuating itself against her mouth.
She’d heard of this kind of kissing, wondered about it. It hadn’t sounded nearly as lush and lovely as Vim Charpentier