“Please, Kate.” His voice shakes over the words, making me feel completely off balance. I’m still wavering, I know Ishouldmove away, but…
His hand reaches up. His fingertips tremble along my jaw and brush over my bottom lip. My stomach flips at the touch and a lump forms in my chest. His gaze drops to my mouth and heat sparks along my collarbone. Suddenly I can’t catch my breath for very different reasons than before.
This has to stop.
I need to get off him, tell him what Pious said. Find the truth and get my head on straight again. It’s time to move away,waypast time.
But then he leans forward slowly, deliberately, and a low groan rumbles deep in his throat. I’m mesmerized by it, by its seductive sound, and the carnal hunger in those blue eyes.
I find myself wondering how warm his lips would be against mine. The taste of his mouth. The touch of his tongue. The thoughts make me shiver.
“Kate,” he whispers my name reverently. I don’t know if he’s asking me to talk about Pious or something else now, the only thing I can focus on is savoring the way his hands skate over my skin.
We shouldn’t be doing this, I shouldn’t want this, but all I can think about is burrowing closer into him for warmth. Yes, that’s it. Of course, it’s because I’m so cold.
No. I’m lying and delusional. I want him to kiss me. To touch me. I want what’s left of this horrible world to fade away until it’s just me and him and nothing else.
Slowly, so very slowly, he traces his fingers over my throat to the nape of my neck. Each movement slow and calculated, down, down, down the back of my spine.Oh, sweet baby Jesus, that feels sublime. I arch back in response, my insides instantly melting, liquifying. My body curves into his touch, floating backward. My bare breasts lift up, intentionally offering themselves for full view.
His hands move quick, grasping onto my hips. I hear a soft moan and a whispered curse. Then I feel it, the soft graze of his lips skating over my nipple.
A gasp escapes my lips and both of us freeze.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight—the warmth of his mouth feels too good to make him stop. I can feel the heat of his breath every time he exhales, it pebbles my nipples to hardened flesh that ache and pinch, desperate to be played with.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he whispers.
But I don’t tell him to stop. I don’t say anything, I’m too busy fighting myself from pulling him closer.
That small moment of hesitation is all he needs before his lips latch on to my nipple, tugging and sucking softly. There’s a sound growling out of the back of his throat and then he’s rocking slightly beneath me, rubbing slowly against me, back…and forth.
His fingers press into my hips harder as his tongue flicks against me and his teeth gently nip and bite exactly how I need them to.
This is crazy. I need to get off him, I know I do. But instead, I’m wrapping my arms around him, running my hands through the silky strands of his hair. My brain is too foggy to think; his body rocking and shifting against mine is overwhelming all my senses.
My hair tumbles around us. His hands slide up and down, over my hips, and tightening around the curve of my bottom as if guiding my body to align with his. Thick fingers massage and rub, sliding lower and lower until he’s spreading both of my bottom cheeks, touching everything between them.
I bury my face in his neck, muffling the sounds of our heavy breaths. The only thing keeping him from being inside me is the thin metallic pants he wears between us.
Will he take them off? Will his fingers fumble with the buckles and gears until his body is bare? Will he rock into me and curse the stars and skies?
It might be so wrong, but I want him to. Oh God, do I want him to.
Just when I open my mouth to tell him what I need, he pulls away, leveling his glazed eyes on mine. He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling fast. “Will you mate with me now?”
Mate with him.Mate with him?It’s like a splash of icy water to my skin.
Hot tears prick at my eyes.That’s what he thinks this is. He thinks I’m going to stay here now and become some baby factory for his next generation?
He leans in to bring his lips to mine and I lean away and flatten a hand across his chest. This is wrong, so wrong. I can’t believe I let myself get into this position with him. I can’t give Rune false hope about me and him or anyone else making the next generation of humans. I just can’t.
His eyebrows pull together. “Your body is willing. I feel it,” he whispers, lowering his fingers through the slickness between my legs, sparking a burst of heat at the apex of my thighs.
Jesus, is he trying to kill me?
“I’m not going to fall in love with you,” I blurt out, leaning back and scrambling off him. I kneel on the floor for a moment with my arms crossed over my breasts and lap. I wish I had a blanket or shirt, anything to cover myself with.
He sits straight up, leaning his palms flat on the floor, his gaze meeting mine. “I don’t even know what that word means.” His voice is low and vicious, his eyes blazing with fury.
