Holding Reese’s hand felt as momentous, as irreversible, as crossing the River Styx. Each of their souls was forever changed, and no matter what happened after that, they’d always belong to each other.

He raised her hand and reverently pressed his lips to the back of it, sending a chill through her arm. “I knew it,” he murmured, his dark eyes glowing with desire. “Your skin tastes like honeysuckle.”

She wriggled closer to him and tipped her forehead to his. “You mentioned something about deep, hot kisses.”

Instantly, he slanted his lips across hers and groaned into her mouth. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and teased them apart. He pressed her onto her back and eased one leg between hers as he plundered her mouth and fisted his hands in her hair.

She was tumbling, falling, soaring.

Touching Reese was everything she’d hoped and feared it would be. But if she’d known it would feel so devastatingly exhilarating—so incredibly right—she never would have been able to resist him these past few weeks.

This kiss, primal and fierce, was far outside the realm of anything she’d felt before, but she refused to let inexperience hinder her. Using passion as her guide, she kissed him back, kissed him with everything in her heart.

She tangled her tongue with his and arched her body against his chest. She let her hands explore the smooth, muscled planes of his back and clung to his strong, broad shoulders when the heat thrumming in her veins threatened to overwhelm her.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming, Soph,” he murmured against her neck. “Tell me I’m really holding and kissing you.”

She speared her fingers through his hair and sighed as he slid a hand down her spine and cupped her bottom, pulling her closer. “This is no dream,” she whispered close to his ear. “It’s better.”

Her words seemed to unleash something inside him, and he kissed her harder, held her tighter—as if afraid she’d slip through his fingers at any moment. She soothed him, running her hands over impossibly hard biceps and wrapping a leg around his.

Breathless, he lifted his head and gazed down at her, his eyes full of affection and wonder. “I don’t deserve you,” he said. “But God help me, I can’t resist you.”

“Do you want to know what I think?” she said, loving the slightly drunk expression on his handsome face.

He nipped at her ear. “Always.”

“I think we both deserve—and need—this. I feel like a seedling that’s lain dormant all winter. You were the sun I needed to make me fully alive.”