His big hands were firm and determined and radiated brute strength, the action just rough enough to send yet another wave of giddy excitement through me—that damn book again. The thick, tempered glass was cold, a shock of ice that brought more goosebumps. My heart was beating so hard and so fast that the sound of my pulse drowned everything out except the rasping of our breath. It was the accompaniment to the dull thuds, a sexy scratch of noise that scuffed the air, our own form of music. “Fuck, it’s good to hear you’re back,” he said, bending his head to lick up and down the column of my neck. “I’ve missed you.” God, I’d really let things go, hadn’t I? There was no time to ponder that now, because his wet tongue was working wonders on my libido, preventing anything other than what he was doing from filling my mind. His breath heated my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck, and a small shiver went through me. It spread inside and out, encompassing me as though it were a live being coming out of hibernation.
