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“Of course not.” He dropped her hands and stepped back when everything in him wanted to step closer. He could not cage her, even with his fingertips.
She took his hand in a firm grip. “Hey, don’t pull away.”
“Goldie, I don’t want to?—”
She put a finger to his lips. “Yeah, the second half of that sentence is going to be extremely boring, and I am not going to waste a second of my life on it.”
“I’m boring?” That one hurt.
“The whole, ‘My family kidnapped you and trapped you in a magical prison with me, so I am going to be a gentleman and apologize. Repeatedly. Every time you see me,’ is old. Boring. And not true.”
“Forgive me, but every word of that is literally true.”
“You’ve also protected me and helped me and want me. That’s way less boring.”
He stepped close again. He could not lie to her. “Also true.”
He didn’t know who kissed who, but suddenly they were connected. His fingers teased into her hair and tilted her headso he could drink from her. She was the perfect height and fit against him like she was made for him.
His wolf howled in triumph.
This felt different from their first time together, though no less desperate. They knew each other now. This wasn’t a one-night fling. This was more.
It was still probably a terrible idea, but more.
They kept kissing as he walked her backward toward his house. They kept kissing as he wrestled the door open and pushed her into the foyer. They kept kissing as they fought for a direction. He tried to pull her toward his bedroom, and she tried to pull him toward the dining room.
“It’s closer!” she insisted breathlessly, stepping toward the room.
What he wanted to do to her would not work on an heirloom table that now belonged to her. She would kill him if he broke it.
“Stop it,” she said as he tried to pull away.
“Let me—” he countered, spinning them until her back was against the door. Mercilessly, he used his superior height and weight to pin her and kiss her properly. She dove her hands into his hair to pull him closer.
Would this always be a fight? For the rest of their lives, would they battle out for what they wanted?
And why was he thinking about the rest of their lives?
The beast sent him a feeling of gloating satisfaction he’d never felt before.
He felt teeth in his shoulder and roared.
He looked down and met her fiery brown eyes. “What was that for?”
“If you don’t start paying attention, I’m going to start being insulted.”
He felt a flash of active fear at what she would do if she was insulted. As it was, he’d never walk through his front door without checking for booby traps.
But she was right. How much worse did he make this by regretting it as it happened? The lord knew he did not regret it. It seemed like every hour he spent not touching her ratcheted the beast inside to a level of aggression and anger he’d never felt before, which didn’t seem possible because the beast was always one lit match away from complete annihilation.
Aiden risked pulling away from her for a second to cup her face in his hands, mostly to keep her teeth away from his softer bits as he stared into her eyes. “I’m right here.”
“You are.” She licked swollen lips and met his gaze fearlessly as she reached for his jeans.
He helped her shuck them off and then pulled at her yoga pants as she awkwardly hopped around the foyer on one foot.
“Skirts are underrated,” he muttered.
