His mouth crashed down on hers with a force that stole her breath, a claiming. Six days of fear and denial and a need so deep it ached poured into that kiss, his tongue sweeping past her lips with a desperate, possessive heat. Amara’s hands flew to his wet hair, gripping, pulling him closer. Her own hunger rose to meet his, a wave of pure want that scorched away every last shred of guilt, every professional boundary. She had chosen him. The thought was a wildfire in her veins, and she surrendered to it completely, opening for him with a moan that was lost against his mouth.
He lifted her then, her legs wrapping tight around his hips instinctively, the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her bare thighs and his trousers. He backed her against the rough wooden post of the solar tank
