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I throw my head back, laughing. “I’m not sure we’re that serious.”
His outraged face is priceless. “That, Miss Sass, I’m afraid, has earned you a visit from the tickle monster.”
“No,” I shriek. “Not the tickle monster.”
I try to get away, but Gabriel is faster. He grabs me at the waist and traps me underneath him while mercilessly tickling my sides.
“Stop,” I wail, laughing. “Please.”
He does, but I’m not sure if I’m better off.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a long time until I pull him down to me.
The time for words is over.
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Gabriel’s eyes flutter closed as he lowers his head. Then his lips, full and warm, press against mine, and I melt into the kiss.
The spicy smell of Gabriel’s cologne fills my nostrils. I can feel my pulse in my ears. The roaring of blood flow in my head.
My fingers dig into his strong shoulders. The scrape of his stubble on my skin is electrifying. I graze his bottom lip with my teeth, wanting more. His lips already a drug.
He draws back and grins down at me. “This is your attempt at a slow burn, huh?” he teases.
“Hush,” I say, and press my lips to his again.
He rests his forehead against mine. “I want the record to show I did my best to resist you.”
I nod. “Duly noted. Now shut up and kiss me.”
He brings his head back up and stares at me with those penetrating dark eyes. A wolfish smile spreads on his lips. “As the lady commands.” He drops a soft kiss on my jaw, then lower. “But I’m still going to take my time.”
I have already lost the ability to form coherent thoughts, so I simply mmm-hmm my agreement.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, worshipping with his lips every inch of my face and neck.
I love the feel of his mouth on my skin. Our bodies touch and press against each other as we kiss.
His lips trail from my neck to my ear, then along my jawline. My skin tingles under his mouth. I want more. His hands are planted firmly on my waist, so I shift mine between our bodies and roam them over the curve of his back.
His lips make their way back to my mouth, and he kisses me again. Harder than before. More demanding. The kiss deepens, becoming a sensual exploration. He tastes like maple syrup, with a hint of coffee. Enveloping me in pure bliss.
I moan at the taste of him, and my body arches against his. He pulls back momentarily and looks deep into my eyes.
“Do you want this?” he asks.
“Give me another word for yes, and I’ll use it.”
“Because I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he adds, his hands still holding me possessively at the small of my back.
With my last sentient abilities, I cup his cheek. “I want this. I’ve wanted it for a long time. I’m sure.”
His features explode with relief, joy, and predatory instinct.
Am I making a mistake?
