For one terrifying heartbeat, nothing happened. He went rigid above her, every muscle locked, and she thoughtI’ve ruined everything, I’ve pushed too far, he doesn’t want?—
Then he kissed her back. Hard, fast, and devastating.
One hand fisted in her hair while the other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her up against him even as he pressed her down into the snow. His mouth moved against hers with a hunger that stole her breath and sent lightning cascading through her veins.
This was nothing like the careful kisses she’d imagined in her sheltered fantasies. This was raw, consuming, primal. He kissed her like he wanted to devour her whole and couldn’t stop himself.
She didn’t want him to stop.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Her body arched up to meet his, chasing the heat, the pressure, the intoxicating friction of his weight against hers. When his teeth grazed her lower lip she made a sound she’d never made before, a whimper that seemed to snap the last thread of his control.
He growled against her mouth. Actually growled, a low rumbling vibration that she felt in her chest, and then his lips left hers to trail fire down her jaw, her neck, the sensitive hollow of her throat.
“Ember.” Her name on his lips was barely human, rough and raw and desperate. “We should… I can’t…”
“Don’t stop.” She pulled him back to her mouth, kissing away his protests. “Please don’t stop.”
He didn’t stop.
His hands slid beneath her coat, beneath her shirt, finding bare skin. The contact was electric—his hot palms against her cold back, making her gasp and arch into him. His thumbs stroked the delicate skin just above her hips, and she thought she might come apart from that alone.
She’d never been touched like this. Never known this kind of wanting, this all-consuming need that burned away everything but the desperate desire for more.
More. Now. Here.
The cabin was a hundred meters away. The bed was a hundred meters away. Too far. The snow beneath her was cold but he was hot, so hot, and his hands were everywhere—stroking her back, cupping her breasts, tracing patterns on her skin that made her tremble.
“Rykan,” she gasped.
“Tell me what you want.” His voice was rough in her ear. “Whatever you want, I’ll?—”
“You.” She fumbled with his clothing, clumsy and urgent. “I want you. Right here. Right now.”
He stilled above her, his golden eyes burning into hers as he processed her words. She saw conflict warring with desire, restraint battling instinct. Before he could object, before he could move away, she pulled him back down into another kiss. She lost herself in the taste of him, the feel of him, the overwhelming rightness of him surrounding her completely.
She’d never felt less fragile in her life.
CHAPTER 9
Rykan’s beast roared for more. He could feel it clawing at the edges of his control—the primal urge to mark Ember as his in the most ancient and irreversible way his kind knew. Her taste flooded his senses, sweet and intoxicating, and her body fit against his like she’d been made for him. Every soft sound she made, every tug of her fingers in his hair, every arch of her spine sent fire through his blood.
She was beneath him. Willing. Wanting.
He could take her. Right here in the melting snow, with the winter sun breaking through the clouds and the forest holding its breath around them. He could strip away the barriers between them and bury himself in her warmth, could sink his teeth into the soft curve of her neck and bind them together forever.
The claiming bite pulsed behind his fangs like a living thing.
Ours. Take her. CLAIM HER.
His hips pressed forward, instinct overriding thought, and she gasped against his mouth as his erection lodged between herthighs. The thin layers of clothing between them were nothing—he could feel her heat and catch the scent of her arousal mixing with the cold mountain air. He could hear her heart racing in perfect counterpoint to his own.
One more moment and he would lose himself completely. He wrenched himself away.
The separation was violent and graceless. He rolled off her and onto his back in the snow, chest heaving, every muscle locked in a battle against his own nature. The cold bit into his overheated skin and he welcomed it, used it to anchor himself to reality.
Control. Find my control.
He couldn’t look at her. If he looked at her—flushed and breathless, her lips swollen from his kisses, her hair tangled in the snow—he would be lost. He would crawl back to her on his hands and knees and finish what they’d started, consequences be damned.
