“Yeah. Okay. I’ll stay.” He tentatively walked toward the bed, sitting slowly, as if he expected me to lash out at him.
He laid down on the other side, maintaining a careful distance.
“Thank you,” I whispered into the darkness. He didn’t respond, so I continued, my voice barely a breath above the silence.
“This reminds me of the time we shared a bed at the motel. I remember waking up in a panic, realizing I had crawled into bed with you.”
He scoffed softly, a hint of disbelief threading through his tone. “Why is that such a bad thing? I’m not diseased.”
“I know… but at the time, I harbored so many terrible thoughts about you. Being that close felt like torture. It filled me with anger and helplessness.” I laid there staring at the ceiling.
I felt the bed shift, and I could sense him turning to look at me. It was dark, but I could always feel his heated gaze, a warmth that wrapped around me like a blanket.
“Can I confess something?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with vulnerability.
He felt too close, yet not close enough.
“What?” My voice came out raspy, barely a whisper.
“That night in the motel, I thought you looked damn sexy in what you were wearing to bed. That thin shirt, those shorts that rode up your thighs… God damn.”
His words enveloped me, stirring something deep within. In an instant, our lips met, the taste of him unexpectedly sweet against my tongue.
The kiss was rapid and heated, not slow or romantic. Hatred and passion fused in an embrace, blending into one, twisting into a complex thread of clashing lips and entangled hearts.
He groaned, flipping me onto my back, his hands roaming freely, pushing his body into mine. I wove my fingers through his thick, chocolate-hued hair, pulling him closer, our lips dancing together in a rhythm all their own.
My thighs tingled again, a red-hot sensation surging through my body, causing my legs to wrap around his waist, yanking him closer. I yearned to immerse myself into his essence entirely, to savor this moment before it slipped away.
“Caiden,” I breathed, my voice a breathless moan as his lips trailed from mine to my cheek, then down my neck, his kisses igniting goosebumps on my skin.
Caiden let out another groan, devouring me with an intensity that left me breathless.
But then he stopped, his dark eyes blazing with barely contained heat, a wild, beastly passion consuming him.
“Shit,” he muttered softly, as if the word itself was a confession of weakness.
His hand hovered over my stomach, fingers flexing in the air. For a moment, I thought he would slam his fist down on me, on the bed, on his own chest.
I reached up, unsure, every cell in my body screaming for his touch, but the chasm between us had grown wider in an instant.
His hunger was rabid and dangerous, and I wanted it to devour me, even as another part of me shrank from its heat.I wanted him to break me open and pour himself inside, to fill the empty, haunted places that nothing else could reach.
His eyes flicked to mine, dark as obsidian, and for a moment I saw the violence there, barely leashed beneath the surface.
He kissed me again. My body arched beneath his, electricity crackling down my spine, my pulse leapt in every inch of skin he touched. The taste of him filled my mouth and drowned the lingering terror.
His hands found my waist, then slid up, one palm braced against the angle of my ribs, the other digging into my hair.
In the half-light, his silhouette loomed above me, all hard lines and rough edges, shadow and heat. I should have recoiled. I should have clawed at his shoulders, spat in his face, told him I hated him.
Instead, I let him in.
His tongue parted my lips, slow and cautious, waiting for me to bite. I didn’t, not this time. I chased him back, lips bruising, teeth scraping, matching his ferocity.
His hand snaked under my shirt, palm sliding over bare skin, and it was like being branded. Too hot, too sudden.
He cupped my breast, thumb rough against the nipple, and the sensation was so jarringly intimate that it yanked me out of the frenzy.
