25
Agathe’s skin tingled at the sweet, soft kisses Luke feathered all over her neck, his body one sumptuous, hot blanket over hers. If this were just the start for his acts of warmth, she’d be a puddle of molten woman by the end.
He tugged away her clothes, and his followed soon after, his unrushed silence speaking volumes. Everything about tonight was different, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. He’d fallen for her but also wanted the same in return.
She closed her eyes, pretending she didn’t see his need, but pretending proved impossible. His touch tugged at her emotional reserves. His quiet adoration made her feel like a heroine from a Greek tragedy, one who’d searched the underworld for her lost love, only to be dragged back to a shadowy place where love didn’t exist.
B
