The kiss was hard—his mouth crushed against mine, as if he could feel the heat burning between us just as fiercely.
But oh… those hands.
They slid between my thighs, exploring, pushing and pulling at the tender flesh, sending waves of sensation rippling all the way to my toes.
I moaned into his mouth, my body arching, thrashing, but he held me firm—his kiss deep, demanding, consuming. All I could think of was him. The taste of him. The feel of him. Slowly, the wildness ebbed, but the sensations kept crashing over me, so strong, so relentless, I could barely hold on.
"You're so sweet," Anthony murmured against my lips, his breath warm and ragged—just a whisper before he claimed my mouth again.
My hand rose, trembling, to cradle his face. I kissed him back like it was the last thing I would ever do. Like he was the answer to every prayer I'd ever whispered into the night. He kissed me so hard I was sure my lips would be swollen by dawn—but what did it matter?
