Grayson looked at her with dark eyes—full of desire and something deeper, something only she could pull out of him. His mouth came down on hers in a kiss that wasn't just passion. It was possession. Tongues tangling, teeth scraping, soft moans swallowed between their lips.

With a firm motion, he pinned her wrists above her head, trapping her under his weight.

"This time you're not running," he growled against her mouth. "You're going to moan my name until you lose your voice."

Kate felt those butterflies in her stomach—those impossible, maddening butterflies only he could awaken. That mix of nerves and longing that made her feel like a lovestruck teenager.

But Grayson didn't rush. He wanted to savor her.

He moved down her body, biting her nipples until she arched, dragging his tongue down her abdomen, over that sensitive skin that trembled under his mouth. And when he reached her center, he stopped—right as she lifted her hips in a silent plea.

"So desperate?" he murmured,