He stopped only inches away, slid his hands down her arms, and laced his fingers with hers. Leaning in so closely that his breath caressed her ear, he murmured, “May I kiss you?” Without waiting for an answer, he trailed his lips deliberately along her jawline, the whisper of touch heightening her sense of anticipation. She raised her chin, inviting him without words to kiss the sensitive flesh of her neck. He kissed her there, tracing a path downward to her collarbone and returning slowly to the hollow behind her earlobe. Her skin was flushed, her only thoughts focused wherever his lips landed. She could feel the caress of his tongue as well, and wanted – God, she wanted! – to feel his lips on hers.
“Please…” She lifted her hands to his head, slid her fingers through his hair. Holding him to her as his mouth continued its journey – she could feel the slide of his lips, his tongue, the graze of teeth. Her skin was more than flushed. It was on fire. His arms had snaked around her and he held her close. She could feel his hard body against hers from thigh to breast. Again, she whispered, “Please.” She turned into him and brought his face to hers, capturing his lips with her own. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so alive. His mouth was on hers, and she opened to welcome him in. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, and she met him with her own, teasing and tempting him to fence with her. He growled possessively, and she answered with a moan – further invitation to deepen the kiss, to explore what was beyond kisses.