Defeated, I let him hold me. I just can’t keep fighting the turmoil of emotions that spin inside me. The moment I relax, all the tears I’ve been holding for years just pour like rain in the middle of a hurricane.

He takes my mouth and I let him kiss me.

But this isn’t just any kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss that takes my breath away, makes my heart want to jump out of my ribcage, and leaves me feeling dizzy and drunk. Nothing to do with the wine I’ve been drinking all night, but the man who is devouring me hungrily. Deeply, with no reserve. He’s a starved man feasting as if this were his last dinner.

Logic dictates that I push him away. But the tingling heat flowing across my body reminds me how good it is to be in his arms, to let him be in charge. That if I let him, he can fill those cracks inside my soul.

A kiss between us is never enough. We soak in each other’s essence. I couldn’t let him go. I’m intoxicated by his scent and his taste. Tomorrow I might regret this moment. Now, I give in to the urge.

The craving takes over and I touch him like I haven’t touched anyone for years. The way I’ve been tempted to do it since the first time I saw him less than two weeks ago. Our hands are everywhere, undressing each other.

“I’ve wanted to peel you out of this dress since I saw you,” he mumbles. “Please, tell me you’re okay with this.”

“Don’t talk,” I protest, my mouth misses his.

He stops, cups my face, and says, “Claire, I need to know how drunk you are.”

“Why do you always pretend to give a shit?”

His strong hand moves over my face, caressing my jaw. “Princess, I never pretend. I care for you. You’re the most important person in the world to me. You just refuse to believe me, but I understand why you can’t trust me.”

A ripple of pleasure runs through me as his fingers slide down my back. “I need to know you’re sober.”

“Enough to know what I’m doing. I want to forget for one moment. Just make everything disappear.”

I stretch my neck, entwine my hands around his head, and stand on my tiptoes to reach his mouth. I brush my lips over his. This time, I take charge. If I’m going to purge him from my system, I have to make this last time count. Our tongues find each other, lapping against one another softly. Tenderly.