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Holy hell.
There’s a frozen moment where I realize what he’s about to do as his body tenses and lowers slightly.
And I let out a laughing squeal and turn, bolting up the stairs with a wild man hot on my heels.
I don’t make it far.
He has too long of a stride—and let’s be real—Iwantto be caught tonight.
I want to behismore than I want my next breath.
And it fills me with electric excitement and heady joy when he catches me on the stairs and sweeps me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest.
The reality of Grant wantingme and making no secret of it is better than any childish daydream. I can’t help grinning as I twine my arms around his neck, looking up at him.
“Oh, no,” I lilt tauntingly. “The big bad wolf’s caught Little Red. Whatever are you going to do with me?”
“Drop you on your knees and put your brat mouth to work,” he growls, even as his grip on me tightens and he carries me toward his bedroom with determined steps. “Or I could just throw you down here, make you sit on my face, and eat you alive.”
Dead.
I’m sure I’m not alive anymore as I look at him and whisper, “I don’t think I’d mind being eaten.”
“Woman, you’re gonna regret saying that when I take you literally,” Grant says, then elbows the door open and carries me into his room.
I barely get a flash of the moonlight-drenched space, the dark masculine colors, the Spartan neatness, the heavy solid furniture before he’s tumbling me onto the bed.
I sprawl out on my back against the comforter, and my entire world becomes Grant.
Him kneeling over me and his bulk takes up my entire field of vision.
His hands fall, flanking both sides of my body until his arms cage me.
His eyes glowing like bonfires in the darkness, that handsome face hovering over mine, gleaming with a hunger I’ve never seen.
My heart throbs violently.
I reach up to stroke his jaw, his beard—and his animalistic stare softens as he leans into my touch, rubbing himself against my skin like the wild thing he is, stealing my breath away.
Feral.
Powerful.
Stubborn.
Harsh.
And allowing me to touch him like I’m the only force in the world that can ever tame him.
Oh, I want this man to make me his so much.
“Grant,” I whisper, trailing my fingers down his throat. “Grant, kiss me.”
“I never wanted to stop,” he exhales roughly, sinking down to reclaim my mouth.
There’s a tremor now, almost like he’s holding back a raging river with the flimsiest dam.
The way he kisses me with such gentleness, but with such tension lashing through his body.
