He rolled over and straddled her again, but instead of plunging back inside her like he desperately wanted to do, he loosened the belt and released her.
“Okay?” he asked, gently massaging her hands.
Jacinda nodded, still dazed from their encounter.
Gabriel knew the feeling.
Forcing himself to finally back away, he left her alone in the bed and retrieved his shirt from the floor, shoving his arms through the sleeves.
But he couldn’t tear his gaze from hers.
Jacinda sat up on the end of the bed, toned legs dangling over the side. From her tantalizing perch, she watched him fasten each button as though she’d never seen such a modern marvel as a men’s dress shirt.
Heaviness hung in the air between them. Desires still unmet, fetishes unexplored, territories unmapped.
Lips—regrettably—unkissed.
When she spoke, her tone was light and teasing. “You’re a lot of things, Prince, but I never thought I’d be calling you a liar.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tonight, in the wine cellar. You said if we ever hooked up, it wouldn’t be quick.” She glanced at her wrist as though she wore a watch and flashed a devilish grin, the playful light in her eyes unlocking something inside him that needed to gorightback into its fucking cage.
Half dressed, Gabriel climbed onto the bed and crawled over her naked body, forcing her to lie back again, her eyes alight with some new challenge, some new fire.
And there again, just as it was the night he’d found her outside the hospital and carried her home, the tiniest flicker of vulnerability.
He lowered his mouth to hers, hovering just above her lips, everything in him demanding that he break his vow and steal the kiss she’d refused him.
He wondered how long she’d truly resist.
Again, she turned her face away, avoiding a collision of mouths and tongues, breath and teeth.
It only made him want it more.
He’d licked and tasted her most intimate curves, fucked her, owned her.
But he still hadn’t kissed her.
“What I said in the wine cellar, witch,” he whispered, “applies only if I’ve invited you into my bed. This was neither my bed nor an invitation.”
“No?” She reached for the buttons he’d just finished securing, already working them loose again. The gentle scrape of her fingernails against his throat made him ache with need. “What would you call it, Prince?”
Scorching.
Mind-blowing.
A fucking fantasy to revisit in the shower every night for the rest of his cursed immortal life…
His cock stirred between her thighs, the evidence of desire—his and hers both—still hot and wet between them.
“Why did you refuse my kiss?” The words were out before he could stop them, and before he could take them back, Jacinda’s eyes filled with sadness.
“Not just yours.Everyone’s. Kissing just isn’t something I… I’ve never… It’s the one thing I won’t do with someone unless I…” She trailed off, embarrassment staining her cheeks.
Love them,she’d wanted to say. He could almost taste the words. Could almost feel the weight of them in his heart.
“Never?” he asked, smiling softly, despite himself.
