The Mafia's Bride
"Ah, sweet peaches. My peaches."
This time, she didn't argue. When his lips descended on hers, it was slow, soft, and exquisitely sweet, like the tide curling around the shore. Warm, inevitable, and full of promise. Her hands slid up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palms, and she melted into the strength that held her.
The sound of waves crashing against the sand mingled with their quiet breaths. He tilted her slightly, deepening the kiss just enough to make her pulse race, and she laughed against his lips, a breathless, happy sound that made him grin.