"Hmmm..." Ayla moaned softly, her lips captured in a searing kiss that left no room for thought.
Ross's hands gripped her waist firmly as he lowered her onto the soft bed, his movements confident and commanding.
She felt the cool fabric of the sheets against her bare back, a stark contrast to the fiery heat coursing through her body.
His kiss was unlike Kevin's—there was no tenderness, no hesitation. It was wild, rough, and insistent, as though he was claiming her.
Despite the roughness, Ayla couldn't deny the emotions it stirred. A familiar ache spread through her, primal and overwhelming, clouding her judgment.
Without her realizing it, her body responded instinctively, growing wetter with each passing moment.
Ross's touch was electrifying, his experience evident in the way he knew exactly where to press, where to tease, and where to linger.
