Ramirez Gonazles.
My hands have never softened like this before, yet here I am, bending the will of these calloused fingers to cradle the face of the most delicate woman I've ever seen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ve always prided myself on control, the ability to rein in every impulse, but the second I saw Ariel standing in my room—so close that her pert breasts brushed against mine—I lost it. My breath, my composure, everything.
As I closed the distance between us, I knew I should stop, let her go. Her skin was flushed, blotchy from our heated argument, from the way I’d pushed her and provoked her into anger. Now as I kiss her, she tastes like honey and wildfire, innocence and recklessness all at once. My hand threads into the silky cascade of her hair, and I feel her press up on
