Rhea Everwood
The world had narrowed to the space between our mouths. I couldn't believe I was letting Sage touch me, that his hands were tangled in my hair, his lips working against mine with a devastating mix of patience and demand. For three years, no man had touched me after the death of Mason. And yet, this felt... right. It was all too familiar, the act of a man's kiss, but the sensation was entirely new.
His hands slid from my hair, tracing the line of my jaw before drifting lower. His touch was a feather-light path of fire down my neck and over my shoulders. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine, his breathing a little ragged.
"Rhea," he whispered, his voice low, vibrating through my bones. "Tell me to stop. Tell me right now, and I will walk out that door and no
