As Eva Nightingale spoke, she met his eyes, deep as obsidian.
In that instant, a flame ignited in his gaze.
He opened his arms: "Come here."
After a week apart, Lucas Knight had regained his usual aloof nobility, filled with restraint.
Upon closer inspection, a trace of fatigue lingered between the man's brows.
He should have been resting quietly, yet he had been traveling long distances.
"Lucas Knight, how is your injury?" She noted his complexion wasn't looking good; was it really right for her to return at this critical moment?
Speaking, she stepped towards him, her heels clicking at eight centimeters high.
Just as she reached the sofa, he pulled her into his embrace. Forcefully lifting her chin, Lucas' masculine scent enveloped her.
His incredibly soft tongue gently pried open her lips, entering with a domineering force.
Her sweet little tongue instinctively retreated, yet he followed closely, chasing it, until they entwined together.
