“And you didn't put on any shoes. It’s too cold out here to be running through the forest in nothing but a pair of fuzzy socks.”
“Weak,” she said again, louder this time, angrier.
“Your hair is still damp from your bath, and the temperatures have to be in the twenties.”
“Weak,” she screamed into the night, a wildness in her gaze that reminded him of the wildness that lived beneath his own surface, one he fought daily to keep under control.
“Stop saying that about yourself,” he screamed back at her.
“Make me,” she ordered as her fists once again beat at his chest. “I told you to prove to me that you don’t think I'm weak and pathetic, but all you’ve done is prove that’s exactly how you see me, the only way you’ll ever see me, the only way anyone will ever see me. You only want me if I'm this meek and mild, sweet and innocent, perfect little angel that you think I am.”
None of that made any sense to him, although it was clear by how agitated she was that it meant something important to Cassandra. Not knowing any other way to make her stop talking about herself that way, Dragon backed up so he had her pinned between a tree trunk and his body, kept one arm wrapped around her while his other hand circled both her wrists and held them tight. Then he nipped at her bottom lip to get her to part those lush lips of hers she’d pressed into a thin line, and when she did, he stuck his tongue in her mouth and kissed her like he'd been dreaming of since the first time he laid eyes on her.
January 8th
6:11 P.M.
The kiss short-circuited her brain.
Finally, Dragon was giving her what she craved.
Even though Cassandra knew it wouldn't last, for now she let her heart and soul plunge into the kiss. Let it consume her, pouring everything she felt and was too afraid to put into words, even to herself, into it.
Against her back, the feel of the rough bark called out to the primal side of her, and the tight way Dragon kept her hands pinned together and held tight against his chest, while her body was trapped between his and the tree, had her arousal spiking.
This was what she craved.
Domination, rough kisses, the sting of pain in her lip from where his teeth had nipped at it. It might be everything she desired, but how long could it last?
Shivering at the way Dragon’s kiss plundered her lips, her mouth, her heart, her soul, she mindlessly rocked her hips, seeking relief for the fire pulsing between her legs.
When Dragon abruptly pulled back, she let out a moan of disappointment. Was it over already? That was only enough to turn her on, not nearly enough for her to get off, or even to finish things on her own back at the mansion. It was like for a few beautiful seconds he’d teased her with everything she wanted, only to snatch it back again.
“Sorry,” he muttered, and she both saw and heard true deep regret.
“Why are you sorry?” she asked, forcing herself not to give in to the hurt, the shame, the disappointment that urged her to tuck tail and run. To hold onto her secrets because nobody was ever going to understand them.
But if she did that, she was all but signing herself up for a life of loneliness.
Dragon was what she wanted, who she wanted. Losing him was almost a foregone conclusion, but what if she was wrong? What if he could accept her as she was?
If he could accept her without judgment, then maybe one day she could even learn to stop judging herself and find a way to accept herself again like she used to before she learned the truth about her mom.
“You're shaking, cold, hurt, upset, just got devastating news, and instead of taking care of you, supporting you, I'm pawing at you like an animal.”
“Youaretaking care of me,” she said softly. Cassandra wanted so badly to be honest and open about what she needed, but every time she tried to say the words, it was like they got stuck in a knot of guilt.
“I’m kissing you, I'm hurting you.” His gaze dropped to where his large hands circled both her wrists, pinning them in place. For a split second that hold tightened, before he slowly uncurled his fingers one by one. His brow furrowed when he looked back up and saw her ravished lips. The nip had left her with a tiny cut, the metallic taste of blood told her that, but the devastated look on Dragon’s face confirmed it.
This was one of those now-or-never moments.
Either she kept following the same path she’d placed herself on. Accepted that her family was always going to see her as nothing more than a sweet little girl they had to protect, and that Dragon saw her the same way.
Or she could pull up her big girl panties and for once in her life be honest.
It wasn't her job to play the role her brothers wanted to keep her in. She was twenty-four years old, all grown up, and until she learned her mom had been raped, had been confident in her sexual desires.
What if the universe wasn't trying to punish her? What if it was trying to make her see that in stifling who she was, she was punishing herself for something she’d had no control over?
