A Debt Paid in Passion
He groaned and stepped closer, shod feet bracketing her bare ones. His hot hands sought her waist and circled to her back, pulling her into contact with his clothed body.
She let her head fall back and met his open mouth with her own, moaning at how wrong this was, but she wanted it so badly. Her hands eased their death grip on the rail and rose to stroke over his shoulders, following the rippling flex of his shoulder blades as he swooped his hands over the small of her back, cupped her naked bottom and pressed her aching pelvis into firm contact with the ridge of his erection.
There was no buildup, no mental debate as she wondered if her desire would catch. Everything about this man turned her switches on. All he had to do was touch her. Her hips tilted, seeking more intimate contact with his hardness.
He thrust his tongue into her mouth in a bold claim, cupping the side of her face to hold her for his devastating kiss. She pulled him into her, wanting more, loving the stroke of his restless hands, the way he clasped her breast and gently crushed and massaged and softly bit her lips before he lifted his head.
“Bedroom,” he said, starting to pull her with him.
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