He draws her into his arms. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”
“And that makes you sigh?”
“Because I can’t have you.”
“I feel like myself today,” she whispers.
The temptation is strong.
But they can’t.
“Will you kiss me?” Elowyn’s voice is soft and tentative, and it pulls at his heart.
It’s such a small request. Just a kiss, right?
And though a voice in his head tells him this is a bad idea, he finds her lips with his own.
She tastes like smoke and sparks and waterfalls. She’s trying so hard to keep her fire in check. That will dehydrate her, though. She needs to be surrounded by water.
“I wish for our pool,” he whispers against her lips.
When their tropical island transforms, Elowyn only glances at their surroundings for a moment beforewrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself to him.
It’s enough to scatter his thoughts.
It took all his willpower to keep them in check this morning.
Now he’s tired of thinking. His head is too full of her. Her kisses. Her body pressed against his. If only it were her skin rather than her dress.
As her gown vanishes, her kiss grows more needy, and he doesn’t pull away, though guilt creeps into the corners of his mind.
He knew what would happen when he wished away her dress.
Any second now, the heartlanding will dump buckets of rain on them, or something will bite his toe, or the wind will kick up and draw them out of this place where the pull of his desire for her is too strong to resist.
And he lets go of his hesitation, waiting for it to happen.
But it doesn’t. Their kisses grow more passionate. Deeper. Her hands on his bare chest fuel his fire, and she gasps when he touches her ears.
“Don’t stop,” she whimpers. “Please.”
It’s like catapulting toward disaster and being unable to change your trajectory. Even if he wanted to.
Which he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to be the voice of reason.
He just wants her. All of her. And she doesn’t even try to dissuade him. She leans into his touch, encouraging it. And while he runs one thumb along the edge of her ear, he lets his other hand wander.
How can she be so soft and strong at the same time?
The image of her pale on that bed in the hotel fills his head, and he freezes.
What are they doing?
He forces himself to pull away as she says his name.
“I’msorry,” he whispers, and she places a finger over his lips.
“No, my love. But—”
