I kissed him, let him kiss me, let him clutch my hips, curl his fingers into
the fabric of my shirt, slide his hands around my waist and splay them
against my back, pull me infinitesimally closer. He made a sound, a growl or
purr, some predatory noise that rumbled in his throat, then said my name. And
this time, it wasn’t a question but a sound of victory, a claim on his prize.

Auteur: Chloe Neill