Cora’s breaths came in short bursts, and her gaze kept flitting back and forth between his eyes and his mouth.
Vaughn dipped down slowly, watching her pupils dilate with every inch. Her chest rose once more, and she tilted her face.
There’s my invitation.
He fused his mouth to hers, not waiting for permission. To open more and massage her tongue with his own. To taste her, see if she was as spectacular as in his dreams.
She was. Even better.
The tart margarita blended with her peppermint mouthwash. He desperately wanted to get drunk off her. He tilted his face more to delve deeper, and her expert tongue tangled with his. Making his dick harden and push against his pants.
Her nails dug into his shirt, strong, forceful, with so much promise for later.
He could barely wait.
With a final nip on her tongue, he pulled away.
Watched her eyes slowly open to the realization that Vaughn was more than an imagination. Or a possibility. He was a sure thing, if she wanted it. Those swollen lips, red and delectable, were better than he dreamed.
“Ready to dance?”
Cora’s flushed face split into the most gorgeous smile. “Just keep up with me.”