This was nothing like that.
His hand on my neck tilted my head just right, and his mouth claimed mine like he had every right to be there. His lips were warm, his beard scraping my skin, his scent pouring over me like a blanket I hadn’t realized I was cold without.
I opened for him on instinct.
He groaned into my mouth, low and rough, and slid his tongue against mine.
My brain short-circuited.
I made a sound I didn’t recognize as mine…it was small, broken, desperate. My body arched up, pressing closer, every inch of me reaching for him, chasing the heat of him before I could think better of it. My fingers found his shoulders, then his back, sliding over hard muscle and ink.
He shifted his weight, settling more fully between my legs.
The friction was immediate.
Hot shock fired through me.
I was already hard, had been from the moment I saw him stretched out beside me, and now there was so much more of him, solid length, heavy weight, all of it lined up against me through thin layers of fabric.
I gasped into his mouth.
He swallowed the sound like he’d been waiting for it.
His hips rolled once, slow and deliberate, dragging us together in a slide that stole the air from my lungs. Pleasure cracked through me, bright and blinding. My hands scrabbled at his back, trying to get closer, trying to anchor myself to something before I flew apart.
“Easy,” he muttered against my lips. “Breathe, Kellan.”
“I am,” I lied, barely.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, tongue stroking into my mouth in a way that made me shiver. Every time he shifted his weight, sensation streaked through my body, pooling low and hot and almost painful, his alpha scent getting thicker until it felt like I was breathing him instead of air.
I was already close. Embarrassingly close. My body had no frame of reference for this, no practice at holding back. It was just yes written in every nerve.
He pulled back a fraction, breathing hard.
“One kiss,” he rasped, eyes dark and dilated. “One kiss and you’re already shaking.”
“I—” My voice didn’t want to cooperate. “You’re… heavy.”
A breathy half-laugh left him. “That’s not an insult in my language.”
His gaze flicked down my body and back up, and something like pride curled in his expression. His thumb brushed along my throat again, feeling my pulse kick under his touch.
“You want more?” he asked quietly.
Heat roared in my face. “Yes.”
He searched my eyes like he was looking for any hint of doubt.
“When I say more,” he said, voice roughening, “I mean more. Not just kissing. Not just this.” His hips rolled again, proving the point, making me bite down on a whimper. “You still want it?”
I swallowed.
The sensible answer should’ve been no. Absolutely not. I was in enemy territory, in the bed of the man holding me as leverage. My father would burn the state down if he knew.
But lying here, wrapped up in his scent, his alpha pheromones sinking under my skin, my body pressed under his… sense didn’t stand a chance.
“Yes,” I said, steady this time. “I want it.”
