Next moment, without warning, her thoughts evaporated. Driven by something outside herself—or deep within?—she found herself leaning into his touch, shifting to meet that barest pressure where she ached the most. She was, God help her, gasping at the rough texture of his thumb against her, a moment of such sinful satisfaction it had to be wrong. But it felt so, so right. Unbidden, her hips canted forward into his hold, the flutter of her heart echoing in the restless beat of her wings.