Katrina arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her throat as his mouth moved to the delicate column of her neck, tasting the salt and sweetness of her skin. Her hands, nimble and artistic, found purchase on the lapels of his jacket, tugging gently until the fabric shifted, granting her access to the solid warmth of his chest. The rhythm of the train became a heartbeat, a steady, insistent pulse that echoed the frantic beating of her own heart as she pressed closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. She felt the hard line of his desire against her thigh, a thrilling promise of the pleasure to come, and a wicked smile touched her lips. This was not merely attraction; it was a force of nature, as untamed and beautiful as the blizzard raging just beyond their window. Her fingers danced over his shirt buttons, her eyes, dark and luminous, locked with his as she began to slowly unfasten them.
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