“Oh?” My heart is a galloping horse, and I brush the tip of my thumb across her jaw. “What is it?”
The dagger slides down my neck, but it remains between us as Wren’s tongue wets her lips. Gods, that mouth. I can easily picture my little bird on her knees, lips stretched around my cock. My fingers would tangle in her hair, holding her to me as I fuck her mouth.
She smirks, as if she knows where my mind has gone.
“I’ve been thinking about our kiss,” she says after a moment.
The admission is a fan, and the flame within me burns even hotter.
“So have I,” I admit huskily, my hand falling away from her face.
Every suns-damned day, I think about it. The way she felt. Her taste. The heat that had coursed through me. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve pictured the two of us, naked and stretched out together, fulfilling every carnal need.
Exploring every part of Wren with my hands. My mouth. Sinking into her warmth. Hearing her scream my name, watching as she lets go of everything and becomesmine.
Fuck, I want that more than anything. My dick pulses at the thought, and I’m so hard, it’s almost painful. I want to adjust myself, but I don’t for fear of ruining this moment.
Wren peers up at me through fluttering lashes. “I’m still not sure if I forgive you for hunting me,” she warns.
“I know.” There’s a chance she never will, and I won’t hold that against her.
“But I think... I think I want to,” she confesses in a hushed whisper. “I want to leave the past where it belongs.”
Hope, which I hadn’t allowed to grow within me, sparks to life. Tiny embers glow in the center of my chest, and my breath leaves me on a ragged exhale. “Oh, little bird. I want that more than anything.”
A long, never-ending moment passes. Silence swells between us. Even the forest seems to hold its breath, waiting for her response.
Then her mouth crashes into mine.
This kiss is not gentle. It is not soft or sweet or brief. It is urgent and intense and a storm—ourstorm—in all its glory. It’s power and want and need, woven into one.
Wren moans, her lips moving feverishly against mine. I kiss her back, matching her fervor.
Our kiss deepens, her hand leaving my neck to clutch my tunic and tug me closer. I groan against her, losing myself in this moment.
This is more than a simple embrace, more than a meeting of our mouths. Gods fucking above. This iseverything. With each passing moment, that connection between us grows stronger. More stable. I can almostfeelthe pull inside me.
Wren’s kisses are eager as she tastes me. Her tongue traces my lips, and I swear I cansenseher desire for me warring with her struggle of who I am to her.
I am careful as I kiss her, desperate not to ruin the delicate trust growing between us. It’s a fresh flower blooming in early spring, and I’m far too aware one wrong move could destroy it forever.
I’d rather rip out my own heart.
My tongue sweeps across the seam of Wren’s lips, and she parts them for me with a moan that reverberates through me. She’s soft and sweet and everything I’ve ever needed, and at the first taste of her, my knees threaten to buckle. I dig my fingers into the bark behind me, forcing myself to let her remain in control.
I pour all of me into this kiss, unspoken words passing between us.
I want you desperately.
I’ll wait for your forgiveness.
You’re meant to be mine.
Even though we haven’t talked about the last part, I know it’s true. I lose track of time as we kiss. We are nothing but a tangle of lips and tongues and teeth, and our problems have no place here.
Eventually, even with Wren’s dagger between us, I cannot keep my hands to myself.
“Can I touch you, Birdie?” I murmur against her lips.
