OLIVIA
I could describe kissing Enrique as everything I had thought it would be but that would be wrong.
There was nothing that could have prepared me for how he tasted.
It was as if everything between us… all the hurt, all the need, all the things we had tried so hard to protect in each other by staying apart crashed together in one violent rush.
He groaned against my mouth. His hands dropped to my waist, gripping me so tightly it almost hurt, and he hauled me flush against him. I let out a gasp that he swallowed hungrily, his mouth opening over mine, tongue sweeping deep in a way that made my knees buckle.
"Dios mío…" he rasped, the words trembling against my lips. My God.
It sent a shiver skittering down my spine. Because hearing him slip into Spanish like that, with his voice raw and lost, was like hearing him stripped to the bone.
