Monica's POV
Morris carried me into his bedroom, setting me down gently before pulling me against his chest. His mouth found mine in a passionate kiss that sent electric currents racing through my veins. The taste of coffee lingered on his tongue as it danced with mine, claiming me with a possessiveness that made my knees weak. His arms encircled my waist, strong and protective, making me feel both safe and desired.
When he finally broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to mine, his eyes closed as he spoke in a voice husky with desire.
"My beautiful Monica," he whispered. "Since you arrived, I've been consumed by something I can't explain. It's like a wildfire burning through me—this desperate need to be with you every moment, to touch you, to be inside you. I want you so much, Monica. Tell me what you want."
