The Taste of Memory and Regret

VANESSA

I surrendered to the moment, closing the distance between us.

Our lips met with a spark that ignited something primal inside me. His kiss wasn't tentative or questioning—it was claiming. Desperate. Like a man who'd been starving for years finally allowed to feast.

I matched his hunger with my own, my fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer. The feeling of his skin against mine sent electricity racing through my veins. My wolf, Lyra, howled with triumph deep inside me, recognizing her mate after so much time apart.

"Vanessa," Roman groaned against my mouth, his voice ragged with need.

His hands moved down my body with reverent urgency, memorizing every curve, every dip, every sensitive spot he once knew so well. I arched into his touch, craving more. The cool night air against my heated skin created a delicious contrast that heightened every sensation.