"What are you doing, Melanie?" She repeated the action. "Whatever feels good," she whispered. That drew a groan from him. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on her shoulder. She waited for him to turn his head and nuzzled her neck, maybe take a bite. But he didn't. He increased the pressure of his forehead on her shoulder, pressed her back the tiniest bit, the battle raging within him palpable. "I need you not to do that," he said, voice low. "Why?" "Because every time you touch me I feel how much you want me and it makes me want you even more." Her blood heated. "I don't have a problem with that," she murmured. Bastien groaned and did turn his head then, pressed his lips to her throat. "You should" He lifted his head, stared at her with those incredible, luminescent eyes. So bright. So beautiful. So full of desire. Mere inches separated them. He raised one hand, cupped her cheek, smoothed his thumb against her skin. Melanie had never wanted a man to kiss her more. He shifted, leaned closer, touched his lips to hers. Her breath caught.