The air in the chamber suddenly shifted into a thick, humid haze of primal electricity. As Robert stood at the edge of the bed, caught in the grip of his own moral conflict, Deliah did not wait for his logic to catch up with his heartbeat. With a strength that belied her fragile, pearlescent frame, she yanked his wrist, pulling him forward until he collapsed onto the mattress, pinning her beneath his weight.
"Deliah, wait—" Robert gasped, his palms landing on either side of her shoulders as he tried to push himself up. "We shouldn't... you're still recovering, and I—"
She didn't let him finish. She reached up, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, and surged upward to silence him with an erotic, searing kiss. It was even more intense than the first; she tasted of the deep ocean and a desperate, rising heat. Her tongue swept into his mouth, claiming him with a voraciousness that melted his protests into a low, helpless mumble.
