Natalie Vaughn was no match for Zane Thorne; she was forced to tilt her head back to endure this punitive kiss.
Her nose was filled with Zane's scent, an aggressive male pheromone mixed with a smoky aroma between medicinal and milky, intoxicating and addictive.
Natalie could only feel a sharp pain in her chin.
Zane's hands were large, effortlessly grasping her chin; his palms were so hot they electrified her whole body.
Unable to resist, she raised her hand to grab the man's hand, unsure whether to pull him away or cling for support. She could even feel the bulging veins on the back of his hand, pulsing, marking his heartbeat.
Strong, vigorous, sexy.
She was like a parched fish, yearning for rain, instinctively leaning in closer, unconsciously hooking up.
Zane's actions paused; he raised his eyelids to deeply gaze at Natalie. Those almond eyes were moistened, reflecting his silhouette, with the corners lifted alluringly like a Persian cat, seductively captivating.
