“Well,” I say thoughtfully as I look around the room. “This is the sexiest prison I’ve ever seen.”
A shadow passes over his features before he nods. “It is, isn’t it?” A muscle twitches in his jaw. Something I said, then?
I look at him in silence.
His eyes smolder with intensity. I turn to face him. He mirrors me, turning to face me, too. I touch my hair and smooth it down.
A girl doesn’t forget what a man like Lyam’s capable of. I watch as he draws his thumb across his lower lip.
And I remember.
The feel of those lips across my body, heated and passionate like a brush with fire. The electric intensity of our connection.
“Come here,” he orders.
I said your disobedience intrigued me. I never said I’d allow it.
“Maybe you should come here,” I say boldly, looking at him from beneath lowered lashes. “I’m pregnant, you know. It might be a little… hard to walk.”
“Cosette,” he says with steel in his voice. “Come here, before I demonstrate exactly how one can safely but thoroughly punish a pregnant woman.”
Shi-it.
I walk to him.
I stand in front of him expectantly, when he reaches for me. He spreads his warm hands along my lower back, and it feels so good to be touched by him. His finger under my chin, he lifts my face to his. At first, the kiss is exploratory and tender, soft and gentle. But when he deepens the kiss, my lips part, allowing his tongue to explore mine.
My mind and body fuse in a whirlwind of desire and love, lust and need. I lose myself in the moment, this quiet, knowingpassion laced with forgiveness and trust. My heart races and I can’t breathe. My senses spring to life as he runs his hand along my back gently, drawing me closer.
When he pulls back, I’m confident my eyes are wide and surprised.
I let myself forget how much I loved it when he kissed me.
I let myself forgeteverything.
Lyam is nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced before, and it makes me wild for him. Tortured and badass and dangerous as hell, he softens when I’m with him.
God, I want him so damn bad.
He holds me. I lean my head against his chest and allow myself the luxury of feeling safe and protected for a little while.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. “I’ll have this kitchen stocked with things you can eat.”
“I amstarving.I don’t know what they’re talking about with the whole ‘you don’t eat for two until the second trimester’ thing, but I feel like I could eat like an entire turkey leg right now.”
“That’s oddly specific.”
“Or maybe a burger. Some chicken? Fish? Protein. I want protein. I think.”
“Protein,” he repeats. “That’s easy. I’ll order food.”
Of course it is. He lifts iron like it’s saving his ass, and the man eats my body weight in protein every day.
“Wait, no. Soup. Can you get me soup?”
“Of course.”
I yawn. “You’re tired?” he asks.
