Kane clearly couldn’t care less. He knocks my knees wider with his hips and kisses me again, deeper, until my head tips back and bumps the mirror. His mouth goes to my throat.
He drags it down the side of my neck, open and wet, dirty and shameless.
My token resistance is a trembling whisper. I try to turn my head, to push him away, but his grip tightens. His thumb is pressing hard against my jaw, forcing my lips to stay locked with his. A feral growl rumbles out of his throat and vibrates against my skin.
When he finally breaks the kiss, a strand of saliva glistens between us.
“You get sweeter every time I taste you,” he breathes.
His hand slides down my belly, finds the hem of my dress, and pulls it up. The first touch of cool air on my thighs makes me shiver.
I get one powerful urg
