His hands come down on my face. “There are a lot of things I want to do to you, Ella, but I promise you, killing you isn’t one of them.” His mouth slants over mine, his tongue delving deep, and I want to resist. I do. I try. But his lips are warm when mine are cold, and the taste of him, passion and fire, and yes, demand, burns through me, tempting me, taking me. And for just a moment, I can’t seem to help myself. I want to be possessed by this man. I want to be consumed, so I kiss him back. I kiss him like it’s my last kiss, because maybe it is.
Lisa Renee Jones
denial