Emotion is hard to define.

But it's the part of her that can't breathe. It's the catch in her chest and the sense of right. The hunger. The need. It's the empty ache only eased by presence, and it's the sickness that only heals under touch.

And all of it—all of it—can only be gratified by him.

Her hands frame his face, the taste of his surrender to his own an all-encompassing flavor on her tongue. And when he pulls her closer, taking her deeper, his devotion is suddenly much more than intentions once murmured in a cave.