“Then I’ll have to prove how much you want me.”
The air between us heats until it’s supercharged.
Then, slowly, he lowers his head.
His breath—rich with whiskey—is warm on my lips.
Generously he gives me a fraction of a second to pull away if I choose.Instead, I remain where I am, and anticipation fills me.
Moretti’s mouth claims mine with a brush of his firm lips that’s almost tender.
Shocking me, it feels more like an exploration that a conquering.
My eyelids flutter closed despite myself, and I feel the world narrow to our single point of contact.
He deepens the kiss a little.He coaxes my response rather than demanding it.
If he’d been a brute, I could have shoved him away.
But this…?
This…
Sensation floods me as his gentle pressure radiates tingles down my neck, across my chest, to pool in my breasts and then even lower still.
Under his expert touch, I can’t help but yield to his demands.
“That’s it.”
I part my lips slightly, allowing him in.
His tongue sweeps gently, tasting me in a slow dance that makes my knees weaken, forcing me to lean into him more.
Emotions crash through me—confusion at this gentleness from a man who’s been nothing but ruthless, anger at my own yielding, and beneath it all, a spark of desire that flares brighter with each pass of his tongue.
I slide my hands higher, then back, over his shoulders and up his neck.
He shudders faintly, and I know he wants me every bit as badly as I am starting to want him.
With a guttural moan, he deepens the kiss.
He’s still gentle, but now there’s an undercurrent of heat.
His erection thrusts harder against me, and the heat of it sears me, making me acutely aware of his dominance.
Moretti eases back then, just enough to break the contact, his breath mingling with mine in the scant space between us.
His eyes search my face, no doubt taking in my flushed cheeks, my parted lips, the way my chest rises and falls rapidly.
I’m exposed to him, vulnerable in a way I have never been before.It’s as if he can see straight to the emotional turmoil inside.
The air cools on my damp lips, a stark contrast to the warmth building inside me, and I fight the urge to lean in again, to chase that gentleness that’s so at odds with everything he is.
But before I can process, he captures my mouth again, this time hard, with a force that erupts like a dam breaking.
His lips crash against mine, demanding, devouring, his tongue plunging in without preamble, claiming every inch.
The shift is electric, sending shockwaves through me.
