His skin gave under my grip, pulse quick beneath my fingertips.
“Kissed,” I repeated.
The word sat wrong in my mouth.
Sat wrongeverywhere.
My gaze dropped to his lips—pink and bitten where he’d been worrying at them, the faint indent still there from the pen he’d been chewing on earlier.
That. Mouth.
It wasmine.
An ugly heat crawled up the back of my neck.
“You better not have kissed anyone else,” I growled.
I pressed once at the hinge of his jaw, forcing his head just enough to the side that I could see him properly.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
He made a noise that made my eyes roll and slapped both hands on my thighs, fingers digging into the muscle.
“Henry.”
“Be careful what you say to me, Rabbit,” I murmured, toying with his bottom lip. “You don’t get to put images like that in my head and just walk away.”
Smooth eyelids fluttered once before closing fully, lips parting to chase the taste of my skin. He sucked my thumb into his mouth, humming.
“Who said I want to walk away?”
Goddamnit.
The soft give of his sweater turned under my hand, stretching just enough before dragging him from his seat.
Wood scraped hard across the floor, one leg catching before the whole thing tipped, the back slamming down with a crack that echoed up the shelves.
The sharp bite of his nails sinking into my forearms made my cock stir.
His spine met wood with a dull, solid thud. Books shifted loose behind him, echoing faintly through the row as I stepped in, crowding him there with nowhere to go.
Air pressed out of his lungs.
“Careful,” I said again, but it wasn’t a warning anymore.
It was apromise.
“No one else touches you.” I demanded.
His chest rose against mine, lips damp, his tongue dragging over the bite marks on his bottom lip as he nodded.
Not. Enough.
“Say it.”
The front of his sweater bunched hard in my fist, fabric pulling tight as I forced him higher against the shelves, wood knocking softly behind him.
“No one else touches me,” he breathed. “Just you.”
