Rowena…” his husky, shaken whisper sounded like a cry of reproach, but his arms had not enough strength to hold me, as they had done when we had kissed before. This time it had been I who had been the first to wrench myself away from the clinging, desperate pressure of his lips. I did it because I had to, and not because I had wanted to: I did it because the rush of violent emotion that seized me when his mouth first covered mine came close to making me lose all control of myself. We were like animals, pressing closely against each other for body heat until that heat was replaced by the force of our desire. Wanting more than kisses, I put my arms around his body, feeling him wince with pain. Lucas’s skin still felt too hot and dry, and when I rolled away from him, my breathing sounding more like sobbing. I could see that his eyes were bloodshot and fever-bright. He didn’t want me to leave him. I stood up, belatedly remembering, when I saw the look in his eyes, that I wore nothing to cover myself.
