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“If anyone should be sorry, it’s me,” he added, almost in a whisper.
She held her breath, feeling his hand move easily down her throat as if he’d memorized the slender curve.
“You have no idea—” Those fingers glided swiftly down her collarbone. “No idea…”
Yes,a part of her agreed whole-heartedly. Heshould be sorry.Sorry for stopping her. For holding her back. Especially because—despite all his insistence on stopping—he wasn’t exactly slapping her on the wrist for being a naughty girl and dragging her back to the truck.
After eighteen years, Loren knew anger. She had spent months living in fear of that very emotion, glinting in her father’s dark eyes.
She knew regret and pain.
And, in him, she didn’t see a damn bit of either one.
Instead, he looked…
Hungry.His gaze centered on the column of her throat with an expression he couldn’t hide. Like he wanted to bite. Tear. Lick. Mark her flesh the same way she’d marked him.
And shewantedhim to.
The potential consequences didn’t even cross her mind as she reached up, lacing a hand around the back of his head before he could stop her, dragging him down.
“Stop.” He resisted, fighting to pull away. “Loren—”
No!
Impulsively, she seized his bottom lip between her teeth before he could, and tugged.
A sound like the roar of a jet engine broke from the back of his throat. He wrenched her closer, palming her waist, pressing her against his chest.
“Stop,” she heard him whisper again—even as he brushed his lips over hers—but, considering how the next second his tongue plunged deep, it was kind of a moot point.
His mouth slanted against hers, but as his hands fanned out over her lower back, Loren sensed his true aim—not a kiss, but submission. He demanded it with every brush of his lips, and she couldn’t find the strength to match his pace.
So, without an ounce of guilt, she bit down. Hard. The flavor of copper exploded over her tongue. Blood? His—and she relished the taste, greedily seeking out every single drop. Disgust didn’t even cross her mind.
This felt right. Natural. The salty tang melded with the overall musk of him, creating a more visceral picture of who William McGoven was at his core. Someone dangerous. Virile. Wild.
A part of her recognized his strength and only wanted to prove her own in return. The bite wasn’t a challenge but a warning.Nobody will ever make me submit,that shadowy voice at the back of her mind whispered—but he didn’t have to.
She was already his. Body, mind, and soul. And he was hers.
He stiffened beneath the brutal assault, groaning in shock. She looked up to witness alarm flit through those silver eyes, right before a dark determination replaced it.
So you wanna play?That look warned her.Let’s play.
The next second she was on the ground. He moved so quickly that her mind barely processed the motion of his leg sweeping out to rob her balance. Impossibly fast, he had her flat on top of a pile of damp leaves. Dead leaves. They smelled like rust, tangling in her hair the same way his fingers did. He fisted both hands within the thick strands to keep her pinned, uncaring as the weight of his body knocked the air from her lungs. His smell swamped her. She could feel his heart pounding in a steady rhythm that confounded her shock.
It wasn’t the unsteady beat of someone experiencing regret or fear, or doubt. Nope. It was the steady thrum of a predator—one who knewexactlywhat it wanted. Her.
A blur of motion robbed her senses. All she knew was that her windbreaker was gone, tossed somewhere along the back of the house. She should have been freezing, but a raw heat displaced any chill. His mouth. Recklessly, he skimmed over her bare collar bone, finding her mouth again before he abruptly pulled back.
“No.” Loren panted. “Don’t—”
A deep, throaty growl ripped from his throat, silencing her instantly. Apparently, he wasn’t the type to submit to anyone else, either.
That point, and more was proven as that silver gaze bore down on the tender skin of her throat. He moved slowly. So damn slowly, she felt about ready to scream when his lips finally feathered over a distended vein.
Her heart stopped beating. She stopped breathing. Every single nerve in her body seemed to hinge on the feel of the two warm lips spreading against her flesh, catching the thrum of her pulse.
