His tongue traced my lips again, slower this time, and without conscious thought, my lips parted on a shaky exhale. He took the invitation immediately.
The first touch of his tongue against mine sent electricity racing down my spine. His tongue explored my mouth with devastating thoroughness, coaxing mine to respond, to dance with him in a rhythm that was achingly familiar despite the years apart.
A sound escaped me—half moan, half whimper—and I felt his answering groan rumble through his chest. His hand in my hair tightened, not painfully but possessively, while his other hand splayed across the small of my back, pulling me flush against him until there was no space left between us.
His tongue stroked against mine again and again, each caress deliberate and thorough, as if he was tryin
