"And you were," Cerys whispered, her voice catching as his lips traveled lower, tracing the curve of her neck. "I wanted… I needed…"
"You need me?" Mikhailis's voice was a low, teasing growl, and he caught her mouth again, his tongue sweeping against hers, slow and deliberate, coaxing another desperate moan from her. "Then show me… don't just say it."
Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she leaned into the kiss, her tongue tangling with his, twisting, flicking, pulling back only to dive in again. Their mouths moved with a fierce, hungry rhythm, each kiss more desperate, more demanding than the last. Her hips rocked against him, and he groaned, his grip tightening on her thighs.
