Alaina's POV
Micheal's mouth devoured mine with an overwhelming possession. His large arms cupped my face and tilted it so I could look at him. He then brought his mouth hard against mine again. He tasted like cinnamon and milk. It took me a while before I figured it was his cologne, not what he had in his mouth.
This wasn't the kind of kiss we had at Michael's hotel room; this one was characterised by a man hungry for physical and sexual touch. The demand that came from his rosy lips instantly put me in the mood, increasing my libido.
His palms slid down my waist, and he pressed himself against me to the extent of me feeling the rush of his arousal straining against my abdomen. He growled low in his throat, rocking his hard hips in a slow grind that made me shudder.
"Let's try something, Alaina." Michael's words slurred, and I found my throat tight. "Touch me, Alaina, touch me there," he demanded.
