The Taste of Surrender

I stood transfixed, watching the transformation on Seraphina's face. Her eyes darkened with desire, her lips—now healed by my kiss—parted with anticipation. My control was slipping away like sand through fingers.

"Maybe I don't want you to," she had whispered, and those words shattered what little restraint I had left.

I captured her mouth again, this time with raw hunger. Gone was any pretense of gentleness. My hands gripped her hips, pulling her against me so she could feel exactly what she did to me. She gasped into my mouth, the sound driving me wild.

"Hudson," I called out, not breaking the kiss. My driver appeared instantly at a respectful distance. "Take the night off. I'll drive Miss Beaumont home myself."

"Very well, sir." He retreated without question, trained to be discreet.