Page 73 of Vows We Never Made
9
ALL THE APOLOGIES (HATTIE)
He’s. Kissing. Me.
Ethan Blackthorn is flipping kissing me!
And not just any kiss.
His mouth is volcanic, hot and demanding and greedy.
My toes never had a chance.
They curl up like caterpillars in the sand, trying to keep me tethered to the ground before this man flings me into the heavens.
In Regency books, the heroines always have weak knees when the brash rake or the noble prince finally breaks down and claims what’s his.
After reading a few dozen books like that, I sometimes scoffed and skipped past the all-consuming first kiss.
Not one kiss in my life has ever made me airborne.
Until now.
Until I taste pure sorcery.
Until Ethan shatters the laws of gravity.
With one rough hand in my hair, cupping my neck, he urges me closer.
His other hand slides to my waist. Although he’s not after anything else, I know he could take it so easily.
A shiver rips through me.
This is my first time kissing a man this tall, too. The way he looms over me, his body practically surrounding mine, makes me dizzy.
There’s a delightful power imbalance here.
If he wanted, he could do almost anything.
But he doesn’t, of course.
Ethan isn’t totally senseless, and this is a public beach.
No matter what we’re feeling in the moment, we’re not so drunk that he’s about to throw common sense to the wind.
But the thought is there, and it leaves me breathless.
Along with a sharp pulse between my legs I haven’t felt in ages, especially with kissing.
But this isn’t justkissing.
This is a ruthless conquest.
My nipples peak, my skin flushes, and before I know it, I’m wrapping my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.
Chest to chest.
Heart to heart.
