Prince Lorenzo shook his head, his lips a grim line. “How can we start again, if neither of us can trust the other? How can we move forward?”
Lily's heart felt as though it were on a jagged, unstable precipice. “You don’t want to move forward?” Had he changed his mind after their fight? They’d both apologized, but maybe he’d decided to give up on her. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had given up on her, after all.
People found it only too easy to let her go.
“Are you, that is, did you change your mind about us? About me?”
He lifted her hand, pressed it against his cheek, and closed his eyes. “No, of course not. I still want you. I still need you. God help me, but I do.”
Her heart soared even while past experience told her to be cautious. “Lorenzo.”
With a groan, he pulled her forward and her lips met his, and she was transported back in time.
God, God. His lips, the way they moved hadn’t changed. It was familiar and new at the same time. His hand delved into her hair, just as they’d done before, but this time with less control and more fervency.
His taste was sharper, richer, and even more addictive than before.
And it had been pretty fucking addictive before.
She shifted to straddle his lap, while his other hand squeezed her bottom and pressed her core against his.
She pulled back from his lips, gasping, her breath mingling with his, their lips so close they brushed when he spoke.
Her hands rested against his chest, and she felt his heart pounding underneath.
“You taste different.”
Her hands fisted in his shirt, then fisted harder when his tongue licked her lips.
“You taste better. Fuck, I didn’t think it was possible. I didn’t think anything could taste better than you used to, but you do.”
Her voice was breathless. "Really?”
She moaned as he took her mouth again.
“God, I missed you. I missed this.”
She buried her face in his neck, her arms wrapping around him. “I missed you, too.”
“I want you in my bed tonight.”