“How long is a while?”
“I don't know. I just—I need time to figure this out. Figure out what this is.” She gestures between us. “Because I'm feeling things I shouldn't be feeling for my kidnapper.”
Every cell in my body goes on high alert. “What kinds of things?”
Heat floods her cheeks—Christ, the way she blushes—and she looks away. “Don't make me say it.”
“Say it, lass.” I use that commanding tone I know affects her. “I want to hear it.”
“I—” She's trembling now. “Whenyou hit Marcus tonight. When you stood over him and threatened him, I should have been scared. But I wasn't. I was?—”
“What?”
“Turned on,” she admits in a rush. “I was turned on watching you defend me. Protect me. And that's ridiculous, right? That's Stockholm syndrome or something.”
I kiss her.
I can’t help it… can’t stop myself. Years of wanting and waiting and dreaming, and she just admitted she wants me too.
My hand tightens in her hair, angling her head, and she opens for me with a gasp that goes straight to my cock.
This kiss is different—this is hunger.
My other hand grips her hip, pulling her closer, and she comes willingly. She practically climbs into my lap, and Christ, having her body against mine is better than any fantasy.
“Not Stockholm syndrome,” I growl against her lips between kisses. “You're attracted to a man who would kill for you. Who would die for you. Nothing wrong with that, lass.”
“Ashland—” She moans my name. I've imagined that sound a thousand times, but reality is so much better.
“I've wanted to do this for so fucking long,” I murmur, myhands sliding down her sides, memorizing every curve. “Touch you. Taste you. Make you mine.”
“I'm not—” She gasps when I bite down gently on her neck. “I need some time.”
I pull back immediately, searching her eyes. “I know. I won't push you, lass. We'll go at your pace.”
Even though it's killing me. Even though I'm so hard it hurts. Even though I want nothing more than to carry her to my bed and spend the next twelve hours learning every inch of her body.
Even though I can already taste her on my tongue, sweet and perfect andmine. I imagine spreading her thighs wide, holding them open when she tries to close them because it's too much, too intense. Watching her face as I taste her for the first time, seeing her eyes go dark and desperate. The way she'd gasp and squirm, those delicate fingers digging into my scalp hard enough to hurt, while I devour her like a man starved. Because Iam. Six years of celibacy, six years of wanting only her, and she's right here, soft and willing in my arms.
How she'd taste flooding my mouth when I push my tongue inside her, when I suck her clit until she's writhing. The gorgeous sight of her back bowing off the bed, her thighs trembling against my shoulders as I hold her down and make her take it. How she'd come on my face, clenching and pulsing and crying my name, while I lick her through it and then keep going because oncewon't be nearly enough. Not after six years of dreaming about this exact moment.
I'd make her come on my tongue until she begged me to stop. I'd worship every inch of her until my jaw ached and my cock throbbed, until she was boneless and sated and finally, finallyminein every way that matters.
Six fucking years I've waited for this. Six years of wanting her so badly it physically hurt, of turning down every other woman because they weren't her, could never be her. And now she's here, kissing me like she means it, and I want to take everything she's offering and more.
Christ. I need to fuckingstop.
“But—” She bites that fucking lip again. “Can we just… do this? For now?”
“Aye. Of course we can.”
Then I'm kissing her again, and she's responding like she's been waiting for this too. Her hands are on my head, her body pressed against mine, little sounds escaping her throat that make me want to throw her over my shoulder and take her like a goddamn caveman.
But I won't. She needs gentle. She needs intimate. She needs me to prove I can give her this without taking more than she's ready to offer.
I've waited six years. I can wait a little longer.
And when I finally have her, when she's begging for me, it needs to be because she's sure.
