“She who licks her lips knows the taste of her lover's desires”

“You didn’t introduce your little cupcake to me. How rude, especially after I’ve tasted her lips and her fright, her want.” He licked his lips again and smiled at me. “All were delicious.”

“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.”

“She was easy to talk to, easy to look at it . . . and when she smiled at him . . . well, he couldn’t call that easy. It hit him in the chest, in the weirdest damn way.Swallowing, she licked her lips and then she could have whimpered, begged for mercy, because she could taste him. Taste him, and it made her want to throw herself against him and kiss him. Again, and again .”

“Ummm…” She licked her lips. “Define fun.”“Quit doing that, jailbait. It’s distracting.”

“I press my lips hard against hers, tasting her desire, her pain, her love, her confusion. At once I’m in two lives, two worlds, two places.”