Eyes wide, scrabbling in the dark as Aiden kisses me, I forget the power. He tips his head to deepens the kiss and, as I recover from the shock, let myself explore kissing him back.
A moment later, the blistering heat gets sucked out of my skin into him, then floods back at me. Except it's become a warm blanket, a river of calm, the prickle of desire, seeping in wherever his skin touches mine. And it's . . . delicious.
I fist his shirt, pull him closer. When I open my mouth he inhales audibly, and my heart skips. I taste the salt on his skin, the spicy-sweet of the power. I pull at both, absorbing them equally eagerly.
Aiden's hands trail down my neck to my shoulders, my sides, around my back. And a trail of sparks follows them, raising the tiny hairs in their wake. Letting my hands trace his firm chest and shoulders, I scrape my fingers into his hair and press into his kiss.
