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What he wouldn’t give to solve the mystery of her body. Over and over and over again.
Instead of jerking away or slapping him or berating him as an opportunistic fiend, she breathed out a ragged sigh and stepped nearer, bracing one hand on his chest and opening her mouth beneath his.
It was glorious. She was glorious.
He dipped his tongue into the honeyed cavern, and she tentatively met his stroke. The passion he’d scarcely held in check exploded through him, and all he could think of was pondering her sweet mouth.
Plundering the rest of her.
Making her his.
Taking her in every way possible until he’d stamped himself upon her body, her mind, and her soul for all time. Branding Kendra as his.
She threaded her fingers in his hair, drawing his head closer, arching her neck and leaning into him. Her wondrously bountiful breasts brushed his chest, and a gravelly groan echoed low in his throat.
Christ.Kendra was magnificent.
Temptation and wickedness and utter devastation heralded her delicious-as-sin kisses.
A door snapped closed somewhere nearby, and to protect her from ruination, he forced himself to angle away.
“Anyone might come upon us,” he whispered, passion slurring his words.
As if just noticing where they were, how they appeared, clinging together like this, she blinked slowly. As if dazed, she glanced up and down the corridor before stepping backward.
“Kendra?”
He wasn’t certain what he asked.
Was she all right?
Had he offended her?
Not if her kisses were any indication, she hadn’t.
Hands clasped before her, she stared at him, marked uncertainty on her pretty face.
They’d left the bickering and taunting behind.
He could see from the emotions flitting across her features and in her expressive eyes, that she knew it, as well. And she was just as puzzled as he about what this meant for them.
Where did they go from here?
For years, their interactions had been caustic, tension-filled sniping, and insult-hurling interactions. Each trying to best the other with the most sarcastic or cutting rejoinder. Upon reflection, Broden didn’t much like himself for his part in their feud.
No other woman had ever been on the receiving end of as much disrespect from him. And here they were at this crossroads. Extraordinarily unforeseen. Tantalizingly trepidatious.
Could she ever desire what he wanted?
A life with her?
He reverently touched her smooth cheek, humbled and thrilled at the impossible softness. Softer than a rose petal. Than down. Than a gossamer web.
Would she be so very wondrously soft everywhere?
Another tidal wave of lust sluiced through him, and he swallowed.
God help him, he yearned to be the man to find out. The only man to ever have the privilege.