Ava barely had time to register Jackson's words before he closed the meager distance between them and his mouth was on hers. He cupped her cheeks, his hands so large she was cocooned in warmth. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, urging her to open.
The moment she did, she knew she was a goner. One of his hands slid to her nape, holding her against his kiss as if he thought she'd leave, while the other dropped to her collarbone. He ran his thumb along the sensitive skin of her throat, and she moaned.
He kissed like he had all night to do so, thoroughly and completely. She could orgasm just on his kiss alone. No crevice of her mouth went undiscovered, and he poured emotion into the act, like telling a story just for her. Heat, passion, and desire drifted through in unspoken words
