Vincent drove Dorothy back to the hotel and took her straight to their room.
The door slammed shut behind them, and the next second, the scent of his cologne—spicy and woody, not unpleasant but intense—filled the air, mingling with the heat of his presence.
His hot, slightly rough lips were on hers before she could react.
He grabbed her wrists, lifting them above her head and pinning them against the ivory wall, forcing her body to press tightly against his.
He didn't hesitate to part her lips, his rough tongue invading her mouth with a dominating force.
At first, she struggled, trying to resist his fervor.
But gradually, as their breaths mingled and their heartbeats synchronized, she found herself losing the battle.
The space between them disappeared entirely, replaced by a fierce,
