DAKOTA

I didn't say a word. I just reached out, my fingers trembling as I touched the pulse point at the base of his neck, our eyes burning into each other's.

The collision was instant and brutal.

He leaned in, and our lips met in a warm, hot, and intense crash that made my head spin. It wasn't hesitant this time; it was a demand. A very loud and clear demand.

He tasted like hot, messy sin and the lingering sweetness probably from the wine he had during dinner.

Conrad’s large hands were possessive and experienced as they slid under the hem of my shirt in a torturously slow and...