CHERYL
His lips were fire.
Wild. Unrelenting. Desperate.
Aiden kissed me like he was making up for every second we had spent not kissing. Like he had been starving for this moment. For me.
And God help me—I kissed him back.
I melted into him, my fingers fisting into his shirt, pulling him closer because I couldn’t help myself. His hands—cold against my burning skin—brushed against my waist, sending shivers down my spine even as his mouth stole every ounce of oxygen from my lungs.
I was floating.
Butterflies exploded in my stomach, my heart raced, and my mind—my very sanity—spiraled out of control.
This was bad.
So, so bad.
But damn it, it felt so good.
Aiden deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing against mine, his fingers sliding up my arm, branding me with his touch—
And then—
