"Again," I whispered, pulling his mouth to mine. [His] fingers dragged over my cheeks. touching me like he was learning me, like he was desperate. 

I understood. I felt it, too.

He crushed me against the wall, and I let him. His hips pressed into my stomach and his hands cradled my face and somehow it still wasn't enough. I pushed against him, fingers digging into his shoulders because my legs were gone.

"Grace..." My name sounded painful in his mouth, and I knew I must be a horrible person because it made me smile. I could get used to that. He made me powerful.