He broke the kiss and looked at her. “Damn, woman. You like being kissed, don’t you?”
        She blushed and looked away, embarrassed. She hated that she was this way with him. So easy. One touch and she was ready to go. One quick kiss and she was about to spread her legs right here.
        “Hey,” he said, softly. He pressed a palm on her cheek and turned her face back to him. “I like kissing you. I like being the one you want to have kissing you. I mean it.”
        “You do?”
        He nodded. “Yes. I want to kiss you in other places too.”
        “You do?” she asked, vaguely aware that she was a broken record, but barely able to form words. The way he looked at her with those deep brown eyes, the way he talked to her, the way he touched her. She was
liquid heat with barely a word, with merely a touch.
        “I want to kiss your neck,” he said, then leaned in to plant a soft, sweet kiss on her neck.
        “And your earlobe looks pretty tasty.” He nibbled lightly on her earlobe, then swept his tongue up her ear. She shivered.
        “And this spot,” he said, touching the hollow of her throat. “I bet you’d like being kissed there too.”
        “I would,” she whispered, and he brushed his lips gently there. She breathed deeply, her breasts rising and falling, and he stole the chance to cup them quickly.