Claiming What Is Mine

The kiss was a cataclysm of five years of starved, desperate longing. Alexander’s mouth parted hers with fierce, unyielding hunger, his tongue sweeping deep inside to claim her with a primal possessiveness that made Clara’s head spin. He tasted of peaty Scotch, dark winter rain, and pure, burning desire. Clara whimpered into his mouth, her hands tangling into the thick, dark hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him…