For all her light words and teasing, Summer’s never been kissed like this. She knows, she’s neither stupid nor uneducated, with a married sister, but never experienced it. She parts her mouth to his, fingertips digging into his shoulders and eyelashes fluttering. It makes her burn even more strongly, and there’s barely enough thought left to hold control over her magic, not let her desire spill over into him.
His fingertips burned, his flesh following suit. It was either the situation or their magic that was threatening to drive him over the edge. What he’d said about being able to hold out might soon be disproved. Mordred pushed his tongue gently into her mouth, fighting her tongue for dominance as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
She can’t help writhing in his hold, instinctively pressing harder against the length of his body. She’s half lying on top of him now, one hand climbing into his hair to somehow try to merge them closer. She makes a sound low in her throat, something between a moan and a whimper, and all but melts under his mouth.