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She wraps her legs around my hips and pulls me closer until the hard length of me presses exactly where neither of us can pretend not to feel it.

“Fuck,” I mutter against her mouth.

She goes still for half a second. “Is that bad?”

“That is the opposite of bad.”

Her laugh shakes. “You sounded pained.”

“I am pained.”

“Dramatic.”

“You’re half naked on my counter after telling me I’m not on the syllabus. Let me suffer.”

“You kissed me.”

“You wondered first.”

She smiles, and I catch her lower lip gently between my teeth.

Her breath catches.

Every thought I have narrows to her. Her mouth. Her hands. Her thighs under my palms. The heat of her body against mine. The way she watches me like she is afraid and hungry and trying real damn hard not to confuse the two.

I know better.

I should know better.

I kiss down her neck again, slower this time, giving her room to breathe. Her fingers slide into my hair. That small pull makes heat rip through me so sharp I press my forehead to her collarbone and curse.

She laughs softly. “You okay?”

“No.”

“Need a medic?”

“Crypt’s ugly, mean, and has cold hands.”

She stills.

I realize too late I have said those exact words before.

Damn it.

Sweet’s hands slip from my hair to my shoulders, and the room cools by inches.

I lift my head. “Sweet.”

Her eyes are still heated, but something thoughtful has entered them. Something careful.

“Is that one of your lines?”

“No.”

“Bitter.”

“It was a joke.”