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He took a step forward, his eyes blazing. “I never said you were, but I need you to be honest and open with me.” His expression darkened—cautious, but hinting at something much more passionate. Something that wasn’t controlled or worried about past abuse.
Something that screamed of possessive desire.
“I am being honest. I’m just not talking about shit that doesn’t matter. Stop walking on eggshells around me.” She heard the huskiness in her voice in response to his dominance. “I don’t need you to go around fixing everything. Okay, I’m grateful you got Rory to sign the documents, but that’s not what is important. I want you, Kyler. All of you. The real fucking you who doesn’t stare at me like I’m wounded.” She vibrated at his corded neck and at the flexing of his forearms. “If you can’t give me that, this will never work.”
He took another step, coming a bit closer. Something so very dominant crossed his features, tightening his expression and changing the color in his eyes to a darker blue. The air between them became electricity charged. “What won’t work?”
“Us,” she shouted.
His eyes slowly narrowed. “Once, I will allow you to say that this won’t work between us. Only once.”
Her lips parted to respond, but he erased the distance, tugging her tight against the hard planes of his body. He dragged his fingers into her hair, then closed his fists in their strands. His eyes spoke of a yearning that went past sensual heat; they shone with the desire to own.
His voice was low, not controlled. “Here, in my hold, things are right. This is your home. No matter what is going on between us, when you are under my touch, you never doubt us.”
He tugged on her hair, slicing a fierce burn into her. She craved this. Desired him. Ached for him.
He added with a growly voice, “Here, you are safe. Here, nothing else matters.”
But is here honest and real? her heart whispered.
Or was it an illusion of two people that held an incredible passion in the arms of each other, yet couldn’t find that perfect place to stand on to make a relationship out of it?
She needed him to stop living in her past.
He seemed permanently focused there.
Kyler drew in a sharp breath, then leaned down toward her, nose to nose. “No matter if we have things to work out or what we go through, you need to be strong in knowing that this is meant to be.”
Why can’t I agree?
In so many ways they were good together, but in other ways they were so wrong. He enjoyed adding pain to pleasure. He was a Dominant, desperate to control a woman. Hell, she wanted to experience all of that without restraints of concern. She ached to feel the leather of his flogger and the sharp bite of his palm.
She stared up at him, pinned in his arms. “But how can this work if you can’t let go of what happened with Rory? If you’re always thinking you need to fix a problem in my past? If you can’t see me for what I want? If you can’t see past all the pain?”
Kyler dropped his chin, his eyes in direct line with hers as he walked her backward. When her back met the wall, he stated, “Sweetheart, baiting a Dom is not suggested. I told you I would only hear that from your mouth once.” Then he crushed his lips on hers.
It was a hard, passionate kiss that spoke of anger and lust. And she melted. She followed his mouth, relishing in his lack of restraint. No hesitation. No worry. Just a man kissing a woman in a way that proved he owned her—that she belonged only to him, always to him.
He nipped at her mouth. “Mine, Ella.”
She gasped, pulled by the pain on her lip as he bit harder. Her body flared in acceptance, pooling heat into her loins. Moisture coated her lower lips in an instant want for him to claim her.
“Mine,” he growled, snaking his hands into her housecoat and opening it before he lowered it off her shoulders. He nudged her head to the side, nipping at her neck. Then he backed away, removing his shirt in that fast way men did, and his mouth was right back on her.
He pinned her to the wall as their openmouthed kisses only became hotter as tongues clashed together with his growl of dominance. He left her no room to move, no choice but to accept his bites.
She reached for his belt and had his jeans open a second later, sending them pooling at his feet. With rough touches she had yearned for, he grabbed her thigh, looking to her. Reckless, passionate eyes stared back at her, sending a hot shiver through her.
His gaze burned as he slid his hand over her bottom. His mouth sealed over hers in a kiss that she couldn’t run from. A kiss that measured up to no other. One that had said Kyler had been holding back. Now he’d been pushed too far. His touch wasn’t careful. It was messy, forceful, demanding.
She soared under his erotic assault.
Bringing her bottom lip between his teeth, he gave a fierce bite. Then his hard gaze lifted to hers and he growled, “Say it, and by God, mean it.”
Under his force, his stare, his unleashed power, she accepted what he had said—this was right, no matter the issues between them. Now he owned her. Possessed her. Cared for her. She belonged to him. And even if this lasted for only this moment, she knew she’d forever search to have him looking at her this way again.
“I’m yours, Kyler,” she rasped.
