A muscle feathered in his jaw as the sting of her slap burned in his cheek. But he looked back at her and their gazes locked. He curled his finger and thumb below her chin and tipped it up. With a ragged breath, he crashed his lips on hers moaning her name. The world faded around him. He lowered his body and pressed her on the mattress. As if she was seeking it, she squirmed beneath him and felt heat coiling tightly in her belly.
He shoved his tongue inside her mouth and explored her. She tasted like sun, she tasted like wine and she smelled like violets. The perfect combination. He was intoxicated. His hand climbed to her breast and cupped it. "You are made for me," he groaned. She bucked her hips in his, moaning, needing something.
