Chapter Two Hundred and Fourty Three

She sighed heavily. The sigh differed from the ones she’d been emitting during their kiss. This one? It matched the delight that softened her beautiful features as she tangled her fingers in his hair. She tugged on them, and the prickle across his scalp tripped down his spine, crackled at the base. He clutched her hips, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh.

With a growl, he skated his palms up the sides of her torso. Desperate to discover if his imagination matched reality, he impatiently tugged at her clothes and wasted no time in pushing the material over her shoulders and down her arms. She obliged him, freeing his hair and joining him in getting rid of the clothing. All of her was perfect, Samson discovered as he moved his hand touched the silky heat of her bare flesh, caressing upwards, until his fingers curved about the soft, up-tilting swell of her breast. Not too small. Not too large. Just a perfect fit in the palm of his hand.