“I have ached for you for so long,” he confessed to her skin, his lips playing at the secret places to which only he had ever had access. “It has always been you, every night, Angel.” His tongue came out, swirling a little circle at the place where her neck met her shoulder, and when she gasped, he said, “I have lain awake every night, visions of you haunting me until I have no choice . . .” He trailed off, those lips sliding down the slope of her chest to the place where her breasts strained at the top of her corset. “Visions of your skin—miles of perfection—of your beautiful lips. Of your
...more
