“Still think I’m a threat?” she asks playfully, her breathing growing erratic.
With one hand on the arm of the couch and the other on the back cushion behind her, I cage her in without even touching her. Her eyes widen slightly as I lean over her. “You’re absolutely a threat.”
Mackenzi tilts her head back, her lips parting softly. I lower my mouth to hers, tasting the lingering spiciness of the chai tea latte she’s been drinking. My thumb brushes lightly along her jaw as I lean closer, deepening the kiss gradually until I feel the tiny sound she makes against my mouth more than hearing it.
Fuck.
Every instinct inside me surges to life.
Protect.
Possess.
Hunger.
Mackenzi kisses me with growing confidence, her hand sliding upward until her fingers curl lightly around the side of my neck. I shift closer, my body pressing between her knees while the oversized hoodie bunches beneath us.
Her lips are addictive, soft enough to make me forget this isn’t the place for this. When I finally drag my mouth away, I force myself to pull back while I regain control one painful inch at a time.
I gingerly rub the pad of my thumb over her swollen lower lip. “It’s getting late,” I whisper gravelly. “Probably time to get you into bed.”
I straighten, steadying myself, then hold out my hand. She slips hers into it, and I help her from the couch. I lace my fingers through hers without thinking, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as I walk her out of the sitting room.
Guiding her through the foyer, my thumb brushes across the back of her hand. When we reach the stairs, I shift slightly, leading her up each step toward her bedroom.
Damon’s grip is firm and warm, a stark contrast to my clammy skin. Each step up the staircase feels like I am inching toward something I both crave and fear. The polished marble of the hallway floor seems to stretch endlessly as he leads me toward my bedroom, my pulse quickening with every step we take together.
When we reach the door, I turn to face him. My back presses against the cool wood as I search for the knob. “Are you coming in?” The words escape my lips before I can stop them, barely more than a whisper.
A slow smile spread across Damon’s face, his eyes darkening with renewed hunger. “Do you want me to?”
I nod nervously, my fingers twisting in the hem of his sweatshirt I’m wearing. “I think so.”
“That’s not an answer, trouble.” His voice is deep and low, sending shivers down my spine.
“I just… I don’t know for sure that I can give you what you want.” My confession hangs between us, vulnerable and raw.
He steps closer, his body heat radiating toward me as he lightly cups my cheek, tipping my face up to his. “What I want and what Iexpectare two very different things.”
I stare up at him, lost in the intensity of his gaze as my pulse hammers in my ears.
“What I want,” he continues, his thumb stroking my jawline, “is my cock buried so deep inside your pussy that you forget where I end and you begin.”
My breath hitches, and I gulp audibly.
“But I know you might not be ready like you were the other day,” he adds softly, “and as much as I want to fuck you, I have no expectations of it—or anything else—happening.”
“Really?” My question slips out, filled with disbelief and unexpected reassurance.
“Really.” His eyes hold mine. “What doyouwant?”
“For you to come in.” The words are steadier this time, more certain. Because something about everything being on my terms makes me more confident.
After letting us both into my room, I shut the door and flip the lock. Damon leans in and captures my lips in a deep, consuming kiss that leaves me breathless. “What else do you want?” he asks through our joined lips.
Heat floods my cheeks as I whisper, “For you to touch me.”
“Yourinnocence is adorable, but I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what you want.” His voice is gentle but firm.
