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“Earn it,” I whispered.
A sound left him. Not a laugh. Something rougher. Then his mouth hit mine. He groaned. “Careful,” he said against my lips.
“No.”
His laugh broke against my mouth, and then the kiss changed. Deeper. Hotter. Control with cracks in it. His power brushed mine, dark and cold at the edges, and my hunger curled around it with obscene interest.
I took a little.
A sip.
He shuddered. “Good,” he muttered. “Just like that.”
My knees softened. He caught me before I dipped, arm banding around my waist, hauling me against him. The library waited beyond us, warm and quiet and obscene in its perfection, while I kissed a masked stalker in a library he’d built because he found out I liked smut.
He broke the kiss first, breathing hard. His mouth stayed bare. I noticed a small scar, hidden under the mask, so I touched it before my survival instincts filed an objection.
He went still.
“What happened there?” I asked.
His jaw flexed. “Later.”
“Everything is later with you.”
“Sex now, talk later.”
His mouth brushed mine again, a filthy little almost-kiss that made my entire body file a complaint.
I gripped his shoulders. “I need . . .”
“I know.” His hands slid under my thighs. “I’m prepared.”
He lifted me like I weighed nothing. I yelped and locked my legs around him. “Warn a girl.”
“You were warned when you got into the car.”
“That isn’t legally binding.”
“It is in this building, Little Flower.”
He carried me past the shelves, past the rolling ladder, past the chair with my book waiting in it. I buried my face against his neck, because if I stared at the library while he carried me, I might propose to the architecture.
The bed caught me a moment later. Huge. Dark sheets. Soft enough to threaten my work ethic. I bounced once and yelped.
He stared down at me, and that awful predatory smile of his spread across his lips.
My eyes drifted down his body before I could stop them. No bandages this time. He had been right. He healed incredibly fast.
He lowered himself onto the bed, looming over me on his knees. His cock strained against his sweatpants, giving me a perfect little preview of what he had planned for me.
I squirmed.
Impatient.
Ready.
I’d been thinking about this all day. His hand circled my throat, fingers firm enough to steal my breath without taking it. His mouth brushed my ear.
