Whatever Donovan had seen before no longer mattered. The moment Esme's lips met his, the dark world around them shifted, and in the blink of an eye, they were back in the study. There was no time for Esme to question it, because Donovan had taken the lead, pressing her body against his and the desk.
His kisses were sweet at first, achingly tender, as if he wanted to savor her, to remind himself that she was truly his. But beneath that softness was a hunger he was fighting to restrain. Esme felt it in the way his fingers tightened around her waist, in the way his lips moved, coaxing hers apart until she melted into him completely.
She could taste it– feel his love, his devotion, his desperation to lose himself in her. And gods, she wanted to be the one he unraveled for.
