The dunes were between us and the crashing waves, the gentle lap of the inlet at high tide swallowing us in its warmth. Her arms were around my waist, her lips moving silently next to my heart. My hands found home in the dense softness of her hair, parts of my body urging me to find home in her most sacred depths. Such subtle movement to find her face upturned to mine. The moonlight shone in her eyes, a champagne kiss with a sip of rye. Her tongue chased the contours of her plump, sweet lips – an enticement to be devoured. Without conscious thought, my fingers roughly grasped her hair and held her still as I searched her eyes for any sign of reluctance. Finding nothing but an open invitation and famished need, my other hand wrapped around her neck, with restrained strength. Her whimper fueled my hunger more as my lips took hers, not in friendship or gentleness but as a claimed possession. She pressed her soft curves into my hardened flesh, my growl acknowledging her acquiescence.