It was light at first, softer and a bit sloppy. But she got the hang of it.

Tongue dangling, lips brushing against his, an exploration that became something more, a desperate dance Camila hadn't known she craved.

She moaned into the kiss, her hands still clamped around the glass pressed against his chest. Those seemed to be a cue for Antonio to take things further.

He broke away, yanked the glass from her hand, and set it down on the table with a dull thud, not bothering to care if it ...