He crushed his lips against hers and pushed her back onto the couch. He wallowed in the softness of her skin, in the warmth of her body. Greg brushed her hair back, his fingers buried in it as he grasped her head and kept her lips lined against his while he consumed her. His tongue entered the warmth of her mouth and he moaned as she met each stroke.
Her hands were restless over his body, moving, groping, squeezing at his skin. Daniella branded him with each touch, and he reacted the same. He nestled between her legs, forcing them wider, and she cradled him there. His erection, already pulsing and heavy, fit against her as he ground his hips. He drank in every moan, felt dizzy as her wetness seeped through his boxers.
Fuck. He was drowning, and he hadn't even touched her yet.