"I am telling you I will wait my turn," I manage. "Dante and Luca got you first. It is only fair that when I have you, I have you properly. In a bed. Where I can take my time and do things right."
"So noble," she murmurs, but her hand is still on my thigh, still making it very difficult to maintain this noble position I have taken.
"I try."
"Such a good boy." Her other hand comes up to thread through my hair at the base of my skull, and she tugs slightly—not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to make my breath catch.
The words—good boy—combined with the hair pulling does something catastrophic to my self-control.
"Careful," I warn, my voice dropping lower. "You are playing with fire, Bella."
"Maybe I like fire." She tugs my hair again, harder this time, and I can feel my control starting to fracture. "Maybe I want to see how far I can push you before you stop being so noble."
I turn my head to look at her, and whatever she sees in my expression makes her smile—slow and wicked and absolutely devastating.
"You are trouble," I tell her.
"And you love it."
She is not wrong.
Before I can talk myself out of it—before logic and safety and the fact that we are ten feet in the air can reassert themselves—I shift closer, and Rosalina immediately spreads her legs, making space for me to settle between them.
The position is precarious at best, dangerous at worst, but I manage to wedge myself between her thighs while she wraps herlegs around my waist for balance, her arms looping around my neck.
"Hi," she says, grinning.
"Hi." I rest my hands on her hips, holding her steady. "This is a terrible idea."
"Probably." Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of my neck. "Are you going to stop?"
"No."
"Good."
I kiss her because not kissing her suddenly seems impossible. Her mouth is soft and warm and tastes faintly like the coffee she was drinking earlier, and when she sighs against my lips I swallow the sound and want more.
We kiss for what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, the sky darkening around us, the first cool breeze of evening making her shiver slightly in my arms.
When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, she looks at me with those hazel eyes that see entirely too much.
"I am serious," she says. "I am upset you missed it. The other night."
"I know." I press a kiss to her jaw, then her neck, feeling her pulse jump under my lips. "I will make it up to you."
"When?"
"When you least expect it." I kiss lower, finding the sensitive spot where her neck meets her shoulder. "When you are in the middle of something completely mundane and I will just—" Ibite down gently, and she gasps, "—remind you exactly what you are missing."
"Promises, promises," she breathes, but her grip on my hair tightens.
"I always keep my promises, Bella." I kiss my way back up her neck, taking my time, savoring the small sounds she makes. "Always."
"Prove it." It is a challenge, clear and direct.
I pull back to look at her, and in the fading light she is absolutely stunning—flushed and wanting and trusting me not to let her fall even though we are balanced precariously on a fence in the growing dark.
"Not here," I tell her. "Not like this. When I have you, Rosalina, I want to be able to spread you out and take my time. I want to be able to make you scream without worrying about you falling off a goddamn fence."
