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Unable to stop myself, I turned and, like a prisoner being dragged behind a horse, I ran to her.
Pulling her up and into me, her on her tiptoes and leaning against my chest.
And I bit down on those lips.
Those fucking lips I couldn’t stop staring at. The fucking lips that made me want to devour her like the beast that I was.
A soft moan escaped her.
And then I was kissing her. Wrapping my arms around her, pulling her up and into me, clutching her as if my life depended on it. Feeling her soft, so fucking soft, lips against mine.
The world tilted and shifted on its access, the darkness inside me filling me up, then burning straight through me.
“Tell me to stop,” I groaned.
“Never,” she whispered.
Sunlight burst forward.
Heat.
Summer.
Always fucking Summer.
I kissed her like the world would fucking end if I didn’t.
Fingers gripping my shirt, her hands around my neck, her body pressed to mine, a soft murmur of need that made my knees weak, my body ache, and my dick throb.
Sharp pain. Her fingers clawed at my neck, reminding me of…
Of my oath. Fuck. My oath.
My blood oath.
I swore on my life.
To protect, no matter the cost.
Even at the cost of my heart.
I jerked back, chest heaving, staring into the lust and heat in her half-lidded eyes and I…
I couldn’t—I couldn’t. I had to…
The image of Douglass’ disappointed look.
He would kill me.
Agony filled me.
Fuck.
Fuck!
“No,” I growled, “stop this.”
“But!” Her lips parted, red shame crawling up her cheeks, anger quickly swallowing the lust in her eyes. “You’re the one who kissed me.”
