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A command. A plea. His ownwant.
He should have known better. He should never have risked it. The control he never, ever lost felt loose around him then, precarious and dangerously close to breaking.
Orion needed to take his leave of her. He needed to pretend none of tonight had happened. He needed to march off, regain his equilibrium, and remind himself who he was, and more, who he wanted to be.
But he didn’t move.
Not when she smiled, a curve of her lips that was not smirky, or edgy, or any of the weapons it usually was.
And certainly not when Calista lifted herself up onto her toes, swayed in closer, and finally kissed him.
Setting them both alight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CALISTAFELTTWISTED. Turned inside out, and raw straight through.
But kissing Orion was a revelation.
Because it didn’t make her feel less twisted, less raw or inside out. It took all of that and made it all worse, and then, by some delirious magic that only he seemed to know, heated it all up and made it better.
Until all she wanted was more.
She kissed him, her hand against his chest and his hand on hers, and he followed her lead. And it felt the way she’d always imagined fairy tales would, in those stories that belonged to others.
Soft. Sweet.
The faintest hint of heat and need—
But then Orion shifted, angled his jaw, and everything...ignited.
He kissed her and he kissed her.
And she forgot her goals here. She forgot all the bold words she’d thrown at him when they’d met, or the promises she’d made herself about how this would go down. She forgot everything, because he tasted too good.
Because nothing about this situation was real...but he was.
This was.
She let out a soft sound as she felt the hard wall behind her, but then the harder, far more fascinating wall of his body was pressed up against the front of her, and that was delicious. And everywhere. And she’d had no idea she could burn like this, so hot and bright.
She wound her arms around his neck and lost herself in the dance of their tongues, the taste of him, and a lifetime or two could have passed that way. Maybe they did.
But the heat was growing. The need wound around and around inside her, coiling tight, then tighter still, until she worried she might crack open. And when Orion lifted her against him so she could wrap her legs around his waist, she could do nothing but groan out her approval.
His kisses were deep, wild, perfect. But there was too much in the way. Her dress with its voluminous skirts seemed to anticipate her growing need and counter it, and all the clothes he wore seemed like an affront.
And it was as if he read her mind, because he pulled back, then. He tore his mouth from hers, but didn’t put her down. For a moment all she could do was pant and wonder if her heart could really beat that hard without hurting her, and then Orion was shouldering his way into her suite, holding her against him as easily as if she weighed no more than a handful of feathers.
There was something about it. Something about beingcarted aboutby a man.Effortlessly.It made her feel feminine and sweet in all the ways she’d never been, like spun sugar. A confection.
The kind of dessert she couldn’t wait for him to sample.
He carried her straight through to the bedroom without breaking his stride, then set her down at the foot of the grand bed that stood gracefully against the far wall. Across from it, the fire had been lit and danced there in its stone hearth, sending light and shadow spinning into the elegant room.
In the flickering of the flames, Orion’s face seemed carved from marble, taut with need, and marked with a passion so intense it made his hazel eyes dark.
And better still, made her shudder, deep within. Where she felt exactly the way he looked.
