The kiss was sweeter than any she had ever experienced—and she had experienced a lot.
It caught her off guard, that sweetness. Not because she hadn't expected him to kiss well, but because it felt unguarded, almost careless, as though he had momentarily forgotten himself. His lips were warm, firm but unhurried, moving against hers with a confidence that made her breath hitch almost instantly. She barely had time to register the texture of his mouth before she felt his tongue press slowly, deliberately, against her lips, coaxing them apart.
When she yielded, it was instinctive.
The warmth of his tongue was different from the warmth of his lips—deeper, more intimate—and she felt a soft sound slip from her throat as he slid it into her mouth. He didn't rush. Instead, he explored, curling his tongue around hers in a way that made her knees weaken as she leaned into him, her palms flattening against his chest.
God, he's solid, she thought hazily.
