She came the last half-step herself.
The heat of her hit my mouth before her mouth did. It came off her skin in a clean, dry wave, seam-hot, and then her hand was at the front of my shirt and she was kissing me like she had been waiting eleven days for the right to do it and had no intention of being polite about the eleventh.
I made a sound into it that I will not dignify.
Her horns were up against my temple, blunt and warm. When I put my palm to the side of her face I felt the heat living under the bone, running, with nowhere to go. She made a low noise and turned her head into my hand and bit my lower lip, not hard enough to mean it as a warning.
"Cade."
"I'm here."
"Good." She said it against my mouth. "Stay here."
