Page 223 of The Sweetest Obsession

We watch the snow for some time, but there’s a pull between us, and in the silence we sway closer until we’re not watching the snow at all.

His eyes lock on mine.

His lips part, but there are no words.

We don’t need them.

We only need our mingled breath and parted lips and the mating mouths.

How does it feel so different now?

Kissing him, I mean.

Somehow, it’s like this one simple change from girlfriend to fiancée opens up this deep sealed-off part of me. It’s like I’m blown open, my shields down, so much feeling pouring in.

The texture of his lips, brushing against mine until my heart trills with every teasing caress.

The warmth, soaking into me and reaching down, claiming me from the inside out.

The flick of his tongue, so rough and yet so delicate, teasing me in that slow, tormenting way that ignites me like mad.

It makes me tingle with an ache between my thighs and a need for something more.

More than the slow, plunging thrust of his tongue.

More than the possessive grasp of his hands on my ass, promising he’ll never let me go.

More than the wet, heated sounds rising up between us as our bodies press together until I can feel every inch of him.

When I pull back, the heat in his eyes matches the molten core building inside me.

Without a word, I take his hand and turn to lead him home.

We walk back in sweet, heavy silence.

Gone is the peace of our earlier stroll. No matter how calm we may seem on the surface, there’s a giddy storm building in my blood.

The tension between us is a living thing that cuts as deep as the snowy wind tonight.

Every time his glance reaches me, I shiver with more than just the cold.

It takes everything in me not torun, when I need him so much, when I love him to death.

Grant barely gets the door open back at the house before we tumble inside and I sweep the door shut with my foot.

Then we’re a human collision, slamming into each other hotly, not even bothering to turn on the lights.

We’re lips and teeth and hands, grasping wildly, ripping at each other’s clothes.

Upstairs—oh my God—we should go upstairs right now.

But Nell’s not home and I don’t care where I have him.

I justneedto havehim, rising up on my toes to take his mouth with a heat as deep and heady as the fire he gives back.

The mandevours, claiming me with a crushing kiss.

“How the fuck do you do it, Butterfly?” he whispers.

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