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His eyes flared at her involuntary action, his next step slower, more deliberate.
Heart pounding, for the first time since meeting him, Morana couldn’t stand her ground.
Her legs moved back on their own, something deep, deep inside her bringing forth all her survival instincts as he approached, some deep-rooted sense of self-preservation made her feet move before she could even process the action.
Eyes pinning her own, his next steps somehow seemed more aggressive, his lithe body fluid in his movement, the clothes of civility doing nothing to mask the animal in him, emphasizing it even more.
Everything inside her rebelled at the thought of being preyed upon, yet she couldn’t stop her feet from going back, her chest heaving slightly, her hands shaking, whether in fear or thrill or something else she didn’t know. Her emotions were an indistinguishable mass of something and everything in the moment.
Morana took a last step back, feeling the counter separating the kitchen and the dining area at her back, the cool granite top pressing against the base of her spine, sending small shivers coursing through her body. She clenched her jaw, her pulse beating with vengeance in her body, throbbing everywhere as she kept her eyes on him.
He would stop a few steps away.
But he didn’t, just kept stalking, his body loose but controlled.
Morana pressed deeper into the counter.
He needed to stop.
He didn’t.
And for the life of her, she couldn’t voice the single word, not as his eyes bore into her, glimpsing at things she never even knew existed inside her.
He stepped right into her personal space, so close she had to tilt her head back to keep their eyes locked, so close that the tips of her breasts brushed against his hard torso as she inhaled, a current zapping through her core even as she leaned away, half bent over the counter.
His eyes glittered as the shadows danced over his face, making him look even more dangerous than he was, his magnificent blue eyes with their pupils blown wide, telling her he was not in control right now, not like he’d been the entire day that she’d tailed him.
God, she needed control. She needed to breathe.
Making herself focus on the dull throb in her arm, Morana broke their gaze, averting her eyes, and turning her face to the side.
Her face hadn’t even turned halfway when his hands shot out, planting themselves on either side of her on the counter, caging her in completely. His chest pressed into her breasts, not completely but enough to make the friction of their breathing drive her mad, the warm heat of his solid muscles a contrast to the cold granite at her back, his breaths brushing lightly over the top of her head.
Her heart thudded, pulse fluttering like a bird caged suddenly, her fingers curling into the counter beside her, gripping the cold slab, the urge to press her palm flat against the moving, hard chest acute. The desire to taste the tempting scent of that musk he always smelled like was on her tongue, even more profound.
What the hell was she even thinking of having those thoughts, especially after tonight?
Her jugular had been exposed to him for a long time, but more because of circumstances rather than choice. Not tonight.
Her heart rebelled.
Suddenly, she felt his hand on her neck, the entire hand cupping her jaw from under as he turned her face towards his.
Inches.
Mere inches.
His breaths brushed over her face as her eyes latched on to his again by some inner compulsion she couldn’t understand, his eyes searching hers feverishly, blazing while his face remained hard and cold, the dichotomy in the man both annoying and fascinating her in equal measure.
Tilting her head back completely, he took the final step to close the distance between their bodies, his semi-hard erection nestling against her stomach as her breasts completely flattened against his torso. Her nipples pebbled in response, her spine curving over the counter. She kept her hands beside her, gripping that slab, keeping her lips shut with deliberate effort, determined not to break the silence between them, not to give in in at least one way.
But it wasn’t really a competition, because in the next breath, he spoke, his whiskeyed voice washing over her lips.
“I don’t know whether to snap your neck or fuck the life out of you,” that voice washed over her senses, so low it made her want to roll her eyes back into her head and wantonly lay back on the counter.
His words sank in.
Morana straightened her spine, the move bringing her face infinitely closer to his, their bodies pressed to close she could feel every indentation of every ab across her own body, fee
