Matt

I took her mouth in a kiss that bordered on savage. My hands slapped the wall by her head in a meager attempt not to touch. I was at my breaking point. Two years. Two years of celibacy, and one kiss was blasting that all to hell.

Pressing closer, I pinned her in place, every inch of us colliding. She tasted like merlot and sin. Salvation. Her fingers fisted in my hair, tugging, and I groaned at the slight lick of pain. Teeth clashed. Tongues warred. Air was scarce. ...