Leyla’s POV
Greg’s face on mine, his lips on mine, our heartbeat synchronized, his breath becoming my own. We are one in this sense.
My hands leave his face and travel to his neck, giving him better balance and access. I pause, studying him, waiting for a sign to make me stop. When he lets me, I hit his lips hungrily and devour him.
The same old feeling of his kisses washing over me, lips gentle, wet, and sweet, the feeling better than the last time. It has been too long. Too long in a presence of any man in this kind of situation, let alone the man that makes my heart beat like a heart in a running marathon.
I have let no man touch me for the last ten years. My skin would crow around with any touch from a man that tried to get close to me. I have longed for this touch; I have longed f
