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“Why I’m still with her is none of your business.Iam none of your fucking business, Nikolai. What happened that night was because I was wasted. You said I could blame you, so this is me blaming you and telling you to leave me the hell alone.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Are you a fucking masochist?”
“Not usually, no. In fact, some might say I’m the exact opposite, but I’m ready to wait for you to come to your senses.”
“Have you heard a word I’ve said? I want nothing to do with you, damn it.”
“Say that again and mean it.” My mouth gets so close to his, I can smell the notes of musk and mint rushing from his lips in fractured breaths. “Unless…you can’t?”
He glares down at me, and there’s so much heat beneath that coral blue of his eyes, but he doesn’t push me.
Not even once.
Bran might lash out, but my mere nearness is causing him a shortage of breath. His chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm.
This must be why he was anal about keeping some distance between us when we were running. He knew that if I got close, it would be game over for him.
So I press my chest to his. Firm muscles glue to mine and the thud of his heartbeat slams and mixes with my own.
What the fuck is this man doing to me?
Why on earth can’t I keep my hands off him? Does he have witch blood? Is he made of fucking drugs?
“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he mutters, his throat working beneath my fingers.
“Yournightmare.”
“I hate you.”
“I don’t.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“About you,” I whisper against his lips and claim them with a guttural moan.
He doesn’t push away. He certainly doesnotturn his face or look like he’s uncomfortable with the attention.
In fact, the exact opposite happens.
His lashes flutter over his cheeks as he groans, and I eat that sound the fuck up. I eathimthe fuck up.
I swallow him whole, but most of all, I hurt him. Teeth clashing, tongues swirling, and lips chasing.
God-fucking-damn-it.
I’ve been fantasizing about his taste since last week. Every morning, noon, and night. Every goddamn second of every fucking day, all I wanted was to have a taste again.
But I didn’t want to freak him out or send him running for the hills. I sure as hell don’t give two flying fucks about that possibility right now, though.
I soak him all in, exploring, feasting, absolutely drowning in his fucking mouth.
He tastes of honey, mint, and pending fucking addiction.
I twirl my tongue against his and I’m rewarded with his hard nips. Lotus flower kisses me as thoroughly as I kiss him, his fingers tugging on the bottom of my T-shirt to keep me glued to his naked torso.
