Before Aveline could gather even a single coherent thought, Theron lifted her.
His arms slid around her waist with startling strength, hoisting her as though she weighed nothing at all. The sudden movement stole the breath from her lungs, and for one disorienting heartbeat, she could only cling to him, tension surging through every line of her body, as his tongue tasted hers, almost cautiously.
This was too much.
Far too much.
Her pulse hammered wildly, each beat warning her that things were slipping past the edge of safety, that this was no longer the gentle closeness of the morning kiss or the almost-kiss at noon. This was different. Hotter. Closer. Reckless.
She was just about to push against his chest when his mouth brushed her ear, and his voice dropped into something rough, possessive, almost unrecognizable.
"You're… mine…"
The words came out in a low murmur, half growl, half hiss, and the heat of his breath against her earlobe sent a shiver racing down her spine.
