Like I was his beginning.
And I kissed him.
Our lips collided in a rush of heat and longing. I didn’t go slow. I didn’t want slow. I kissed him like I was starving—like I’d waited my whole damn life for this moment and I’d be damned if I wasted it now.
He made a sound in his throat, halfway between a growl and a groan, and kissed me back with just as much hunger.
His hands gripped my waist tighter, pulling me flush against his chest. The warmth of him, the strength, the tension coiled beneath his skin—I felt it all. His lips moved against mine with purpose, with control, but I could feel the barely contained wildness beneath the surface.
I opened my mouth, inviting him in, and he took the invitation like a man possessed. His tongue met mine, teasing, coaxing, tasting. The kiss deepene
