“I dreamed of this,” he said. “Of being able to touch you. Really touch you. I could always only half feel you—and I imagined what it would be like—I tortured myself with it—” “Is it like what you thought?” Lucie whispered. “I think it might break me,” he said, and stretched out above her. “You might break me, Lucie,” and he drove his mouth against hers, hot and demanding.