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She placed the palm of her hand on his cheek.
Flames erupted inside him.
Her fingertips flexed against his skin. ‘I’m going to kiss you now.’
Her eyes searched his, hesitantly at first, then boldly, as she recognised his desire, demanded his surrender. She was challenging him to concede. To give it up. His control.
A primal surge of lust pushed against the rage inside him. Coating the anger with something else. Something distinct that he couldn’t name. He fought the urge to pull her into him. Into his warmth. He needed her consent—her permission—to lose control.
In his mind, he allowed himself to raise that glass in his too-tight grip. He readied himself to release the tumbler into the night. Because on her cue—if she gave it—he knew the glass would shatter.
‘And do you want me to kiss you back?’ he asked.
CHAPTER TWO
‘YES,’FLORACONFIRMED.
She swallowed down the urge to tell him she’d never been kissed, never been touched. Because did it matter? She didn’t want it to. Not to her—not to him. Tonight she wanted nothing else to matter but this. Their connection.
A shiver raked through her.
Black brows arched above eyes so bright that it was as if the entire world had crawled inside them and reflected the earth’s surface back from space.
‘You’re cold,’ he said, shrugging off his jacket.
He leaned into her, bringing his arms around her back to trail the leather over her shoulders. She clung on to the lapels, pulling the jacket tightly around her. The smell of leather and the heat from his body rose to the cold tip of her nose and infiltrated her lungs.
Her stomach flipped as she found her courage to voice her confession. ‘I’ve never—’
‘Never what?’
‘Kissed anyone,’ she said, expecting to feel vulnerable. Embarrassed. But she didn’t. She felt empowered.Excited.
She should be horrified. This wasn’t how she’d been raised to respond to her feelings. Her wants. But she’d never felt as delicate or as strong as she did now, in her desire for this beautiful stranger.
And he was beautiful.
Her heart stuttered as she took in his broad shoulders, sheathed in a black shirt. He’d flicked the collar up, bringing her attention to the open buttons at his thick bronze neck...the fine black hairs leading down to his chest. A chest she wanted to see. She wanted to pop open those remaining buttons and run her hands over it.
Her eyes lowered to the belt encircling his lean hips, locked in place by a wide silver buckle. Dark tailored trousers clung to the hard muscle of his thighs. The fabric moulded to his muscular calves.
‘Would you like me to kissyoufirst?’ he asked, and her eyes flicked back to his face.
Her mouth parted. The air tasted of gunpowder and bonfires. The scent of the upcoming season.
She had been acting on impulse before, and she suddenly felt nervous. But still the need to touch and be touched destroyed any doubt thatthiswas the way to behave. Even if it was not the way she’d been taught to behave.
‘Yes.’ Her eyes moved back to his mouth. ‘I want you to kiss me first.’
Her core tightened. Deep down inside her. She knew she might never find a connection like this again. A raw, unguarded reaction. A sexual reaction.
‘I want you to be my first.’
The blackness swept through the brilliance of his irises to a create a burning edge. Intense rings of smouldering energy. Blue...? Green...? Ethereal.
‘Then we will start with your mouth.’
She teased her tongue over her bottom lip. ‘Where else would we start?’
