

His lips met mine gently, as if he were testing the sensation. He must have liked what he felt because the kiss became consuming. I matched his intensity, equally anxious to finally have this between us.
He was the best kisser ever.
Not that I’d had tons of lips on mine, but there was no way any man was better at it. His kiss varied between tenderness, passion and exploration, keeping me constantly guessing. The lips I’d admired before proved how perfect they were.
He pulled back and I worried I’d done something wrong, because I didn’t want it to end. His eyes did that searching thing again, but this time with a soft gleam in them. Jackson wasn’t the type of man you took control from. I waited for him to find what he looked for.
He swooped down and this time our embrace moved beyond passion, to something I’d definitely never experienced. The kissing was hotter and his hands were more forceful along with his lips. They roamed down my back to my bottom, gripping it as if laying claim. It thrilled me, all of it. With his hips pressed against mine, I felt his own arousal.
And I wanted to lay claim myself.
His lips traveled across my jaw, down my neck and journeyed over my collarbone.
Jackson abruptly pulled away, this time ripping himself away and out of my reach. He panted heavily, as if just finishing a race. His expression almost harsh, he said, “What am I going to do with you?”
My response was born from a need he had ignited. “Kiss me again?”

