She leaned closer, her breath warm against my face. I'd wanted to kiss her lips for so long now that I felt as if the desire had become a memory my body knew, even if I did not. I wove my fingers through her hair, pulling her closer. Her skin was hot, as if the fire of a dragon burned inside her.

"Bana," she whispered, but I didn't let her say more.

I crushed her lips to mine, breathing her, tasting her. I wanted to take her in with all of my senses. I wanted to find the flame that lived inside her and cup it in my hands, feeling the warmth that was her light, her soul. So beautiful, yet so strong.

Silk and iron.

I felt her hands on my back, her palms burning against my shoulders even through the layers of fabric, drawing me against her. The fire of her raged, burning me. Consuming me. I didn't want it to end. I didn't want to ever stop kissing her.

But then she was pulling back, gazing up at me with such intensity that I couldn't even think, let alone speak.

"I knew," she whispered. "I knew that kissing you would feel like that."

And then I could resist no longer and I drew her back where she belonged, her heart pressed against my own, the beats merging into one pounding rhythm.

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