I caved, laying my hands over his. A small breath left my lips. A delicious honey coated my veins, pulling me under. That simple touch was ecstasy, a symphony, a feeling so lurid that pleasant shivers broke down my spine. I craved more—more touches, more nakedness as images flitted behind my eyes faster than I could catch them: my dark prince in the forest, waiting beyond the trees as the moon waned down to darkness. Swollen lips kissing me, touching me, following a hand up my bare thigh. A ceiling of swaying wisteria and deadly nightshade. Then Jack’s eyes—my dark prince’s eyes—blinking in
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