Christopher wanted her too. More precisely, he needed her. It was a difficult admittance, because he had never needed someone, not after his mother died — now allegedly alive. But yet, there he was. Feeling strange, yet good. Awkward yet perfect.
Pleasure and desire had never been so real, so alive when their lips met. She had never been so needy, never come this close to feeling so much when he touched her. His touch was fire, and from her inside there was a fresh spring of passion stirring to the surface.
No, it was more than a spring. It was a storm. One ready to sweep her and tumble her over. Once, she had thought all she wanted from Christopher was the most basic and casual affair. But from the moment he touched her, let herself savour and enjoy his taste, she knew nothing could be the same again.