His hand slid along her back as she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him while his mouth claimed hers. He lifted her easily off the floor, still kissing her deeply, her legs tightening around him.
Her bed was small, too small. Even in the heat of the moment, Sybil knew it could never contain them both.
So he stayed on his feet, holding her against him, his hand slipping beneath her nightgown. She jolted as though breaking out of a trance. “No, not in my father’s house,” she whispered.
“Just shut up and kiss me,” he growled back, pressing his lips to hers again. His tongue tangled with hers, silencing her protest, while his palm cupped her bare bottom, squeezing until she let out a shaky sigh, as though fighting to hold herself together.
He sat down on the edge of her bed,
