And then she parted his lips with a swipe of her tongue, and she fell into him. She kissed him hard, winding her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, kissing him as though it would be the last time, as though he would rear back and come to his senses and shake her away, as he had always done previously. Kissing him like she loved him. He could grow drunk on that, the illusion of her affection and the obviousness of her desire.