“The light from the hallway spilled inside her bedroom. She’d barely stepped over the threshold when he caught her. Kenton spun her around and yanked her up in his arms. Two steps, and they were on the bed. Crashing down. Falling hard into the soft mattress.He caged her arms over her head, holding them with one hand even as he took her mouth.That other hand—yes!—drifted down her stomach and pushed between her legs. He’d find her wet, she knew it. One kiss, and she’d been wet for him. Creamy, hot. Ready.”

“Then his hands were around her waist as he lifted her up. The muscles in his arms flexed as he held her.Wow, didn’t realize the man was so strong, didn’t know—She licked his throat.Screw it.Lora wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock pushed against her, pressing right at the wet entrance to her sex.She arched toward him just as Kenton slammed deep.So deep.She bit her lip to hold back the scream.Skin to skin. Hot. Slick. So full.”

“I’ve been dying to know,” he said again, “how you taste.”Oh, hell. Her right hand grabbed the back of his head, and she yanked him down toward her.Their mouths met. Open. Ready. Lips kissed. Tongues licked. And—damn!Yes, she wanted.The control she’d held so tightly began to crack. She jerked in her seat, struggling to press against him. He took her mouth. Tasted her. Tormented her. And she met him. No, she fought him, fought him for more.”

“His fingers snaked between them and found her clit. His thumb pushed against her even as his cock shoved inside in a thrust that had her gasping.“Come for me.” His whisper.Her eyes opened. When had she closed them? Lora met his stare. “Make me.” A taunt. One she’d never given a man before. What the hell was her problem? What was she—He pulled on her clit. Thumb and forefinger, tugging, then pressing, pushing down with just the right force as his cock thrust into her, again and again.His hips bucked. Then his eyes went wild, and he came.So did she.”

“He tugged her over the threshold with his good arm, barely cognizant of her startled squeak before his mouth swooped down to cover hers. She tasted pepperminty, as if she’d been sucking on a candy cane again. He swept his tongue between her lips to taste more of her while her arms locked around his neck.”

“He knew he loved her in February: steam leaving the mug of coffee in her hands in thick curls; her hair a snarled mess around her shoulders; the morning on the other side of the window bitter and windswept; her face lovely, pale, and lonely in a way he didn’t understand. She sat in the chair in his bedroom, in his shirt and a pair of socks that went up to her knees, gooseflesh on her slender legs. A copy of Oliver Twist had been open across the arm of the chair. “I think it might snow today,” she’d said, and he’d been completely in love with her.He thought she might have loved him back in March: in from the rain; his clothes stuck to his skin; the umbrella showering the hardwood of her entry hall; the dinner she’d planned forgotten when he’d helped her out of her jacket and she’d been shivering with cold. That day, when she’d pushed his wet shirt back off his shoulders and stretched up on her toes to kiss him, he was sure there was something new shining deep down in her coffee-colored eyes. “You’re so cute,” she’d said, and he’d known: she loved him.”

“He tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her toward him in the darkness. He knew exactly how she’d respond, her other hand coming up to push him away, her hand touching the bare, hot skin of his chest so that she drew back in surprise, long enough for him to wrap her tightly against his chest, trapping her hand between them. He knew she’d try to jerk her head away when he slid his hand into her hair and tilted her face back for his kiss. And he knew she’d open her mouth for him.What he hadn’t guessed was what it would feel like. [...]He hadn’t known a mouth could feel like that. That a woman, an argumentative, reluctant woman could feel so hot in his arms, so incredibly right that his monumental self control could start to slip.”