TERESA'S P.O.V.
The second kiss was wilder, searing with hunger and urgency. Lucian's hands were relentless—gripping my waist, threading through my hair, skimming along my back—like he was desperate to touch every inch of me at once. I wasn't much better. My hands were everywhere, tugging impatiently at his shirt, needing to feel the heat of his skin beneath my fingertips.
He guided me down onto the bed with ease, his body pressing into mine, his mouth never leaving mine for even a heartbeat. My pulse raced, pounding in my ears as Lucian's hands began their slow descent over my thin evening gown. When his fingers found the zipper at my back, he paused just long enough to pull it down, the soft whisper of the fabric slipping to my waist sending a delicious shiver along my spine as my boobs bounced free from the restrain of the dress.
