Chapter 8 #3
It was just her… warm, soft, breathless against him… and the sudden awareness of how close she was. Way, way too close. Close enough that his body reacted before his brain could catch up, letting instinct take the lead.
She made a startled sound, sucking in a breath as her fingers curled into his jacket and pulled him closer. His arms came up, pressing her body flush against his. Her eyes flew to his, wide and wanting, and for one brutal second, time fractured.
Then her breath puffed warm against his chest as she tried to steady herself.
Her gaze dropped, not in a shy, unaware way.
No, she stared straight at his mouth, and that was it.
Whatever thin thread of control he’d been clinging to snapped cleanly in two, and something deep and primal inside him took over.
Mace caught her chin without thinking, tipping her face up. There was no finesse in him. Not anymore. Something inside him surged, raw and unfiltered, demanding space, demanding her.
Tilting her face back even further, he took her mouth with his own and kissed her. Deep, hard, and wet, exploring her mouth with his tongue. This was no gentle, patient kiss from a man being careful and testing boundaries. This was passion and instinct as old as bone and marrow.
He backed her up blindly until the rough bark of a tree pressed against her spine, heat to heat, breath to breath. Her taste hit him like a bolt of lightning, sweet and wild and unmistakably woman.
And it wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough.
He pressed closer, every inch of him aware of every inch of her, and something shifted deeper, burrowing beyond muscle and bone, beyond logic or reason. Something deep and unmovable settled into place.
Her hands fisted in his shirt, her fingers digging into his shoulders, as she rose onto her toes and met him without hesitation, a small, breathless sound escaping her that went straight to his spine.
His control frayed further as he felt her against him, felt how her body responded as if it recognized him on some instinctive level.
A low rumble rose from deep in his chest before he could stop it, possessive, rough, and real.
He gripped her hips, anchoring her there, pulling her closer, leaving no doubt how badly he wanted her. Or how close he was to losing himself entirely. Fire tore through him, sharp and demanding, his body screaming for more—now–immediately, consequences be damned.
A cold breeze brushed his knuckles as the forest woke and breathed around them. It held just enough bite to bring reality slamming back in with brutal force.
He broke the kiss, breathing hard. His forehead pressed briefly to hers as he fought to rein in the fire raging beneath his skin. As if in admonishment, another breeze teased needles from the pines around them, catching in her hair as her eyes fluttered open, dazed and dark.
Arousal flushed her cheeks. Her lips had the rosy, swollen look of a woman well kissed. They parted, as if she hadn’t quite remembered how to breathe yet. She placed her palms against his chest, not pushing him away yet. Just returning them both to the present.
Her head tilted slightly, a silent question unspoken on her lips.
Footsteps cracked nearby, and faint laughter carried through the trees. In an instant, awareness sharpened his senses. Realization blindsided him, but before he could process anything, she blinked up at him, as if waking from a deep sleep.
Everything inside him protested. His jaw clenched as he took her in. She looked disheveled and thoroughly kissed. And entirely too tempting for a man barely holding the line between control and chaos.
“I, um, I have to go potty,” she said.
His powers of speech were non-functioning, and before he could utter a sound, she ducked under his arm, spun on her heel and raced inside the cabin. After the door had slammed shut, he managed to call out, “Don’t run!”
She’d still been wearing his coat, and as he stood there like a frozen jackass, the cold evening air finally seeped through his shirt. It cooled his skin but did nothing to quench the fire raging inside him.
Standing there, alone in the dark, his cock ached, and his temper spiraled. Which was saying something because he didn’t normally have a temper. At least this time, his anger was aimed solely at himself. Damn it.
He needed to get control, but all he wanted to do right now was chase after her and finish what he’d started.
A line had been crossed. And somehow, even though it had been such a short time, he had definitely been the one to cross it. And he was very afraid there was no going back. Not that he wanted to go back. Not now… not ever. He wasn’t an impulsive man, but sometimes good things happened fast.
He sucked in a few deep breaths and regained his control. Squaring his shoulders, he marched toward the cabin door. She was going to test him in ways he hadn’t expected, in ways he hadn’t thought possible. She was the most exasperating Little he’d ever had the privilege to meet.
But holy cow, did she know how to kiss.