The air in the room grew thick and heavy, charged with a current that had been building for weeks between them. His gaze, dark and hungry, traced the delicate line of her throat as she tilted her head back, a silent invitation. A single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple, following the sharp angle of his jaw before he closed the distance. The first touch was not a kiss but the press of his forehead agat hers, a shuddering breath mingling in the scant space between their mouths. Her fingers, trembling slightly, found the hem of his shirt, curling into the soft fabric as she pulled him closer, erasing the last pretense of separation. The scent of him, clean sweat and something uniquely male, filled her senses, a dizzying perfume that made her knees weaken. When his lips finally found hers, it was not gentle but a claiming, a deep, searching exploration that spoke of a long-suppressed need finally unleashed. Her own hands roamed the hard planes of his back, feeling the powerful muscles shift and cord beneath her palms with each ragged breath. In that suspended moment, the world outside ceased to exist, reduced to the frantic beating of two hearts and the searing heat of skin agat skin.
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