When Lemiel's lips covered hers, Sienna froze.
The tip of his tongue grazed her lips as he gave her a shallow kiss, as if he only wanted a small taste.
She thought that was it, but he parted her lips with his own, pushing his tongue inside, kissing her deeply as if the shallow kiss was not enough.
His hand went to her nape, pushing her to him while his other arm was snaked around her waist. His hand raked through her hair gently as he kissed her. His mouth was warm, wet, and moving in a way that made her want to get lost in it for as long as possible.
When she responded shyly, she felt how Lemiel's lips curved against hers.
"Don't be shy to kiss me hard," he said in between his kisses.
Her hands went to his shoulders, holding onto them for support because she felt like fainting any time.
Her body felt too weak and hot, too feverish. She felt sick in a pleasant way. And the cure to that sickness was the duke's kisses and touches.
