Tasting What's Mine

"That's not fair," Graeme's deep voice puttered in his throat. "Come here, let me get a taste of your cheeks."

August laughed softly and backed away against the passenger door.

"Nope, you have to concentrate on the road."

It was always so easy with him—even when the disbelief and sorrow about this ridiculous enchantment of Penelope's was like a low-hanging dark cloud—she was still drawn to the joy that burned inside when he was with her. Her twin flame. Her mate. The one other being in this world who was threaded through and enfolded within her own self. The hope that he brought just with the reassurance of his presence alone was enough to make the future more possible.

"I think I can do both—nibble on you and steer. Let's try it," his hand found her in the darkness and tugged her closer, but she wiggled to free herself, letting giggles slip loose in the process.