Page 118 of Anton

Anton is really here, in black pants and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his expression dark and ravenous and aimed right at me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

THORA

At first, all I can do is stare.

He remains there without saying a word, anger carved into every hard line of his face. A shiver races over me under the force of his attention.

“Anton.” My fingers curl around the edge of the counter as I search his face. “Are you really here?”

The faintest hint of a smile touches his mouth as he stalks toward me. “It appears so.”

He stops close enough that his heat reaches me before his touch does. My heart pounds as he takes in the dress and the bare skin at my throat, leaving my body acutely aware of him.

“Why are you here?”

His palm closes around my throat as he presses himself against me. “Because you are.”

He came for me?

But that still doesn’t answer the question. Is he worried about my safety? Is it more than that? Is he finally ready to admit he cares about me?

His thumb traces the side of my neck before settling over the pulse fluttering beneath my skin. Need rushes through me, hardening my nipples as a heavy throb builds between my thighs. His mouth drops and his scent surrounds me, clean soap beneath the faint musk of his cologne.

“I thought we were done.”

“So did I.” His unwavering gaze holds mine, vulnerability breaking through before he buries it again.

The silence stretches between us until his focus drops to my knuckles and his features harden.

“What did I tell you would happen to any man who touches you, Thora?” His mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath my ear, his lips grazing my skin and sending a sharp flutter through my stomach.

“Anton…” A low moan slips from me.

“You let him kiss you here.” His thumb sweeps across my knuckles. “You let him hold your waist. Dance with you.”

My fingers slide into his hair, gripping the strands. “You don’t get to be jealous after pushing me away.”

His grip travels from my throat to my jaw, angling my face until his mouth grazes the corner of mine without giving me the kiss I ache for. “When it comes to you, everything I thought I knew about myself disappears.”

I clutch his bicep, the muscle flexing. “Maybe you should leave, then.”

His forehead lowers until it nearly touches mine, his lips close enough to make thinking feel like a chore. “I’ve tried. But I can’t stay away from you.”

I hate that his words get to me when I’m still mad about how we left things.

But then his touch drops to my thigh, his palm sliding over silk and bare skin as the slit in my gown parts, and whatever I was going to say disappears.

“Show me,” I tell him.

“Show you what?”

“How badly you missed me.”

A deep growl rumbles from his chest before he drives me against the far wall. I go still, suddenly aware that someone could walk in at any time. When my attention darts toward the entrance, amusement crosses his expression.

“I locked it. They won’t see what I’m about to do to you.”