William’s lips were as soft and warm as Brynn had imagined. His kiss was gentle. Tentative. An invitation rather than an assertion. She could feel him holding back, waiting for her response.
Pulling away just enough to search her face, he questioned her with his eyes.
She answered him by wriggling her arms free and placing both of her hands on his chest. She could feel each rise and fall of his breath through her palms and, deeper, his heart pounded as thunderously as her own.
Slowly, she slid her hands up to his neck, feeling his quickened pulse even more keenly there. She traced her thumbs along his stubbled jaw, drawing her hands to the back of his head, and running her fingers through his hair.
Brynn pulled William to her, and her kiss was not as delicate as his had been. She crushed her mouth against his, ravenous and pleading.
‘Closer,’ that tether between them seemed to cry. ‘Closer, closer.’