Serena's heart pounded wildly.
Because he called her name—and even more so, because of what was about to happen.
The elevator was rising fast, heading straight to the penthouse suite.
The cabin was drenched in a blend of fragrance—tuberose and osmanthus, faint and elegantly sensual.
Serena leaned against his body, her nostrils surrounded by his clean yet restless scent, beneath her cheek a solid, heated chest.
Adrian didn't need her verbal answer.
He knew her body's reactions too well—no one understood her better than him in these matters.
Within seconds of speaking, he gripped her nape, forced her head up, and captured her lips again.
A long, searing kiss stretched from the elevator all the way to the penthouse suite.
Lost in his familiar scent, Serena felt utterly adrift; his kisses were forceful, his hand gradually moving forward to cradle her face.
Again and again, he bit at her lips, as if he wanted to devour her—his moves wild, raw with desire.
