His lips took hers between them in a passionate battle that lasted long enough to have Denae drowning in need. They were soft, lush and gentle like spring and his tongue was wet and warm like July.
The moment was blissful, one she wished would never end; the desperate way in which his lips moved and the urgency of his tongue as he searched her mouth contributed to that. He impatiently wanted her, and that fact had heat rising in the pit of her stomach.
His scent was like crashing waves and she was between them, gracefully collapsing, gracefully giving in. If she wasn’t careful, she knew she would drown, but it was hard to breathe already.
For she was drowning, fighting to keep her sanity, fighting to keep her lust under control…but she couldn’t, she knew it was impossible.
The potent
