ALARIC POV
Her hands moved hesitantly, one of them clutching at the fabric of my shirt as though anchoring herself. Her breathing grew heavier, matching mine as the kiss became more consuming.
My free hand rested on the cool porcelain of the sink beside her, caging her in without even needing to grab hold of her. She was mine, locked in this silent surrender, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
I angled my head, sliding my tongue across the seam of her lips, teasing them open.
"Open up." I breathed the command. It was more like a demand.
She resisted, a faint shiver rippling through her body, but it was weak. And then, like a dam breaking, she parted her lips for me.
Her taste flooded my senses—sweet, intoxicating, entirely her—and I groaned low in my throat, the sound vibrating against her mouth as I claimed her fully.
"You taste like heaven. Like everything I've ever craved." I said against her lips, and she moaned in response.