“Why not?”
“Because if you tell me you want me, I won’t be able to walk away.”His voice is raw.“And I need to be able to walk away, Tessa.For your sake.”
I should listen to him.Should let him keep that distance between us for both our sakes.
But I don’t.
Instead, I close the space between us and press my lips to his.
The kiss is nothing like the one downstairs.That was fire and desperation and loss of control.This is something else.Slower.Deliberate.A choice I’m making with clear eyes and a steady heart.
He freezes for a heartbeat, then makes a sound low in his throat, and kisses me back.
His mouth is cold against mine, and his fangs scrape my lower lip as he deepens the kiss, but I don’t care.I open for him, letting him in, and the taste of him is winter and danger and everything I should run from but can’t.
His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb stroking my cheekbone, and the gentleness of it is at odds with the barely leashed hunger I can feel vibrating through him.He’s holding back, I realize.Fighting himself even now.
So, I push harder.
I shift, swinging one leg over his hips so I’m straddling him, and the position brings our bodies flush.I can feel every inch of him beneath me—the solid muscle, the unnatural stillness, the hard length of his cock pressing against my pussy through our clothes.
He tears his mouth away from mine with a gasp.“Tessa, we can’t—”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll hurt you.”His hands grip my hips, holding me still when I try to rock against him.“Because I won’t be able to stop.Because—”
“Because you’re scared,” I finish for him.“I know.I’m scared too.”
“Then why—”
“Because I’m tired of being scared,” I tell him, my hands framing his face.“I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel this.And I’m tired of you pretending you don’t either.”
His eyes search mine, looking for something.Doubt, maybe.Hesitation.But whatever he sees makes his resolve crack, just a little.
“This is a mistake,” he says, even as his hands tighten on my hips.
“Probably.”
“I could hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes,” I say firmly.“I do.”
And I kiss him again.
This time, he doesn’t pull away.This time, he gives in.
His hands slide up my sides, under my shirt, cold palms against warm skin, and I gasp into his mouth.He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss, one hand fisting in my hair while the other explores the curve of my waist.
I rock against him, grinding down on his erection, and he growls, actuallygrowls, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine.
“Tessa,” he says, and my name on his lips sounds like a prayer and a curse all at once.
I pull back just enough to meet his eyes.They’re white again, glowing softly in the darkness, and his fangs are fully extended.He looks feral.Dangerous.Like the monster he keeps insisting he is.
