He kissed me hard.
It was completely different from the few kisses we’d shared before. Those had been tentative, careful, measured. He had been assertive, yes, and I had been incredibly turned on, but this was nothing like those kisses. This was reckless and hot and intense.
As Stefan thrust his tongue into my mouth, one hand slid up to fist my hair, holding me in place. It hurt just enough to send a tingling shock from my head down to my toes. I opened my mouth wider and he fucked my mouth with his tongue, making me so wet I could feel it.
He was greedy with his kiss, taking everything he wanted.
I loved it. I loved every moment of it.
I kissed him back, meeting him thrust for thrust as our tongues parried, his free hand grabbing the curves of my body with a hungry roughness. I could feel the hard outline of his cock, and the slide of silk against my aching nipples made me dizzy as I arched against his chest.
I wanted more.
Instead, Stefan released me so abruptly that I stumbled back.
“There,” he said, his chest heaving, his eyes angry. “You’ve been kissed. I hope you’re satisfied.”
Before I could respond, he turned and disappeared into the bedroom.
He may as well have slammed the door in my face.
