The kiss was not a gentle thing. For Elric, it felt like an explosion in the center of his mind. For days, he had been starving in a desert of his own making, and Verona's lips were the first drop of rain.
The moment her mouth met his, the agonizing pressure behind his temples shattered. A surge of pure heat flooded his veins, but this was different from the burning agony of the dungeon. This was a heat that had a purpose. He let out a low, guttural groan, a sound of absolute surrender, as his hands flew to her waist.
His fingers dug into the silk of her dress, pulling her flush against him. But then, as his instincts flared, he froze. A shuddering breath racked his chest, and he tried to pull back, his pupils pulsing in the dim light of the bedroom.
