"Don't leave me."
The raw plea in his voice tugged at something deep inside me. My gaze softened, my breath caught.
I tilted my head, heart pounding. "Are you going to kiss me or not?" I giggled, the sound light and teasing, breaking the tension that coiled between us.
At last, Anthony's eyes gentled. His hand slid to my waist, pulling me close, so close I could feel the heat of him. His gaze searched mine, as if seeking permission, before his lips brushed mine—tentative, aching.
We exhaled together, as if we'd been holding this hunger, this longing, for far too long.
His kiss was soft at first, his fingers lifting my chin. Then he nibbled at my lower lip, sucked it gently, drawing a shiver from me. I moaned against his mouth, and that sound seemed to undo him. His lips claimed mine fully, his control absolute. Our breaths tangled—rough, desperate—filling the quiet with the sound of our need.
