Chapter 3

Valentin suddenly realizes what's happening.

"Anna, no …" he whispers, his eyes filling.

"Yes. Please." She lightly touches his cheek.

"You don't have to. You don't want to."

"I do."

She presses her lips against his cheek, desiring more, but holding back so they might be able to part as friends if he turns away.

"Don't tempt me," he breathes, standing frozen as she continues to rain gentle kisses over his face.

He doesn't rebuff her, and soon she feels his tension drain away.

Whether she leans into him too heavily or he is overly relaxed, they are both startled when he suddenly drops back into the chair he vacated.

Anna loses her balance in the process, and he reacts swiftly, pulling her onto his lap to keep her from falling.

"I didn't plan that," he swears, smiling awkwardly. He holds her securely around the waist and gives no indication he wants to let her go.

"Neither did I!" she laughs, sliding one arm around his shoulder and stroking his face again. "But it's a little more – convenient – wouldn't you agree?"

"A little more dangerous, you mean." He closes his eyes tightly. "What are we doing?"

"What I don't want to do is keep talking about what we're doing," she teases, before turning serious.

"Where's the Valentin who was my dearest friend, the young man who wanted to kiss me back then? Where's Ivan?"

Anna feels him convulse at the mention of his long-ago name – the name forced on him by his father in fear of his devilish wife, Helena Cassadine.

She remembers it's the name that represents his deformity and isolation – and years of emotional and physical pain – and starts to apologize, but he doesn't give her the chance.

His mouth claims hers, unleashing a passion locked away for decades.

Anna's fervor matches his own, as she engages with him, encourages him, exploring a pleasure that is infinitely deep, sweet and satisfying.

With one arm firmly around her waist, he presses her slender frame against him, as his other hand tangles into her hair, holding her steady as he possesses her lips.

She caresses the back of his neck, then his cheek, before her fingers slip to the warm spot just inside his shirt collar where she finds his pulse pounding with an excitement she shares.

Her gentle touch drives him, as his mouth insistently seeks more and more from her – which she willingly gives, before pulling away for a moment to catch her breath.

"Our first kiss, and I …" he starts.

"And you stopped too soon," she whispers, kissing him again gently.

"I'm afraid I'm running over you with my feelings. I can't believe that you could – maybe – feel something for me." He suddenly looks panicked. "It's really you, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course!" She quickly shows him her hand. "You remember where Olivia cut me."

Convinced, he cradles it, tenderly running his thumb along the faint scar before lifting her palm to his lips.

"I can't stop looking at you," he says. "It's a different Anna I'm seeing. Where did this – change – come from?"

"I've been working out some things." She bites her lip. "I told you therapy could be helpful. I've been, as Andre would say, 'fixated' on not kissing you all those years ago."

Valentin's face registers surprise.

"He didn't suggest I should just run up to you, do it and get it over with, because you have as much say in the matter as I do. But we agreed it was a sticking point, and something I needed to deal with – some day, somehow."

He looks crestfallen and loosens his hold on her. "So, this – all of this – is part of your therapy?"

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See Chapter Four

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If you love Anna and Valentin as much as I do, be sure to check out my other General Hospital-based story:

"Anna Devane and Valentin Cassadine – Anna's Birthday."

Thank you for reading!

Annette