45

"Elena…" he began, unable to decide how to voice out what he wanted.

"Kiss me," she blurted out, making it easier for him.

He was stunned for a second, so he remained still,

"I want you to kiss me, Chandler," she repeated.

That did it for him, and he threw caution to the wind. A smile curved the corners of his incredibly sensual lips as his hand tightened on her waist, the hard muscles beneath his shirt pressing against her sensitive breasts as he loomed over her. She glimpsed the intent in his heavy-lidded dark eyes a second before he lowered his mouth to hers. His tongue slid effortlessly between her parted lips and she forgot about everything else except him.

It was how Elena imagined being swept up in a tornado must feel. The heat, the sensations like a primitive force of nature battering her, spiraling around her, sweeping her higher and higher until she was flung back in time, lost in the splendor of their passionate embrace.

The persuasive movement of his tongue, skilfully