His eyes meet mine. Dark. Burning. “Is it fear? Are you afraid of me?”
I shake my head slowly, holding his gaze. “No.”
Something in his demeanor changes. His thumb strokes across my pulse point again, slower this time, and I feel the vibration building in his chest before I hear it.
Without thinking, I tilt my head back, baring my neck to him.
He inhales sharply, his hold on me tightening.
I don’t know why I do it. Some instinct I can’t fathom, rising up from somewhere primal and deep. But the sound he makes in response, a growl that travels through his entire body, tells me it was the right thing to do.
“Emma.” My name comes out strangled, warning and want warring together.
His hand slides from my jaw to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, and I can feel the restraint costing him. The way his muscles tremble with the effort of holding back.
So instead of retreating, I push. I reach up and place my palm flat against his chest, right over his heart.
It’s pounding. Faster than mine, if that’s possible.
“You didn’t let anything happen to me,” I whisper.
His fingers dig into my hair, and he exhales. “I’ll always protect you.”
The word hits me somewhere soft and vulnerable. I search his face, looking for the lie, the deception, but I find nothing except fierce, unwavering certainty.
“Always?” My voice cracks on the question.
He leans closer, sliding up the hem of my top. His forehead presses to my stomach, then his lips, his breath warm against my exposed skin.
“Always.”
The force behind that one word breaks me. I throw myself forward, my hands wrapping around the back of his neck, diving down to capture his mouth with mine as I straddle his thick thighs where he kneels before me.
For one heartbeat, he’s frozen, and I think he’s going to pull away, back to being my stoic guard once again.
Then he groans, low and broken, before his control shatters.
“Fuck it.”
He cups my face in his two massive hands and stares down at me for a second, looking right into my soul, before his mouth claims mine with a hunger that steals the breath from my lungs.
15
EMMA
One hand stays tangled in my hair, angling my head where he wants it, while the other wraps around my waist and hauls me against him.
I melt into the kiss, into him, my fingers clawing at his shoulders, desperate to get closer.
Without breaking the kiss, he moves us sideways, his massive frame angling to cover me. As we pivot, his eyes flick over my shoulder for just a fraction of a second, toward the bed, before returning to mine.
Curious, I follow his gaze to the ornate headboard.
And suddenly, another memory surfaces. Him in the kitchen, watching me suck my finger. The rough edge to his voice.I hope you washed those hands.
At the time, I thought it was just Bodhi being uptight. But now...
I pull back, studying his face. “Have you been watching me?”
