Cristiano's lips were warm and demanding, pulling her deeper into a kiss that tasted like fire and want. Portia clutched the front of his shirt as kissed her like. When they broke apart for air, their foreheads stayed pressed together, both of them breathing hard.
Cristiano's voice was hoarse. "Say something. Tell me to stop, and I will."
But she didn't.
Instead, her hands slipped beneath his suit jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. Her answer was in the way she moved, the way her gaze lingered on his lips, then lower. She was a woman of few words but she was not shy. She flusters easily. He expected her to be shy but no. She was more vocal about her needs than him.
That's the kind of woman he liked.
Pliant but expressive.
Cristiano's mouth was on hers again, fiercer this time. He pulled her against him, their bodies pressed so close she could feel every breath, every heartbeat, every inch of heat that burned between them.
