The storm hit. Wind came sweeping over the bluff, so strong it felt like it was going to pull them both off the rocky ledge into the swirling mass of exploding waves below, waves that were hurling onto the uneven rocks and cliffs that surrounded the point where the lighthouse stood erect and solid. The lighthouse wasn’t in danger of tumbling off the hillside, but Cassie knew she was. Rain hit her. It did nothing to cool Marcus Leary’s l**t. He had her pressed so hard against the metal rail that she wondered why it didn’t come loose. He kissed her deeply, wretchedly. She wasn’t fighting him, she was like a limp noodle against him, but he still had yet to loosen or relax his hold on her wrist. Or notice what she clutched so fiercely in her nearly numb hand.
His mouth was painful against her
