“What is it?” he asked.
“N-Nothing.”
“It’s naenothing,” he scoffed, folding his arms. The movement made his biceps seem even larger, pushed up against his chest as they were.
The tension in her gut knotted again, and she turned away.
“I daenae ken what I want,” she muttered, half to herself. Abruptly, she began to pace up and down, up and down, her head drooping. “I’m confused. I daenae even ken for sure that I can trust ye, but when ye are next to me, when ye are here, I… I…”
“Ye what?”
She closed her eyes. “I feel safe. But me heart is going like a runaway cart. I cannae breathe, me mouth turns as dry as a bootstrap, I cannaethink, I… Do ye think I am scared of ye? Is that what this is?”
His eyes widened, pupils blown wide. In two strides, he’d crossed the room and was standing in front of her. If she leaned forward, she could press her cheek against his chest.
“Scared of me?” he breathed. “The Skye I ken is afraid of nothing. Certainly nae a man.”
“But the feeling… I daenae recall feeling like this before. It’s fear, is it nae? It must be fear.”
Evander barked out a laugh. Leaning forward, his fingertips grazed her chin. Her breath stuttered in her throat. He curled his fingers around her chin, tilting her face up to his.
“Fear? Nay, lass, ye arenae afraid of me,” he murmured. “I can promise ye that. Because I feel just the same, and I am nae afraid ofye.”
Skye blinked, frowning. “Nae even a wee bit afraid of me?”
The corners of his lips twitched as if wanting to curl into a smile. “Nae even a twinge of apprehension, I’m afraid.”
She scowled. “Aye, well, that is because I’m nae trying. Back at me braither’s keep, I had quite the reputation as a wee harridan. I can be scary if I want to?—”
He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers without warning, without even a word.
She yelped in surprise, the sound muffled against his lips.
Heat rushed through her, the ache in her chest and between her thighs pulsing furiously, a throbbing kaleidoscope of colors and sensations and feelings she could not name coiling inside her.
Her lips parted, almost without her conscious decision. The tip of his tongue slid over her lower lip, a hot, velvety intrusion that made her gasp again. He swallowed the noise she made, tilting his head to press their lips more neatly together.
Skye’s hands moved of their own accord, her fingers curling over his shoulders, pulling him close. Their chests pressed together, his heart beating in sync with hers. Or was that her imagination?
The ache between her legs thrummed again, and she pressed her hips forward, barely knowing that she did. He gave a low growl, a rumbling deep in his chest.
The room spun, and she found herself walking backwards until her shoulders knocked against the wall. Evander followed, making sure that no more than an inch of space opened up between them. His arm snaked around her waist, thrillingly tight.
For a split second, their eyes met. His eyes were wide and dark with lust, and Skye was sure, entirely sure, that hers were the same.
I want him,she realized in a dizzyingly powerful rush.
When he bent his head to kiss her again, she met him halfway, letting out a faint, breathy sound of wanting. Lips pressed against lips, hard enough for her to feel a brief sting of pain, the sensation soon smoothed over by a rush of prickling desire. Arousal tugged at her gut, and she felt foolish for not understanding what it was earlier.
His free hand, the one not on her waist, ghosted over her cheek and down her neck, leaving a red-hot trail of sensation in its wake. Down it went, dancing over the swell of her breasts. She briefly wondered if he could feel her heart hammering.
His palm flattened warmly against her ribs, and she exhaled, pressing against the touch. His hand didn’t stay where it was, sliding further to cup her hip, squeezing ever so slightly. She pressed her thighs together, breaking away from his lips to suck in air. Her lungs burned.
Had she been holding her breath?
Evander tilted his head, pressing a stubbly cheek against the soft skin of her neck. She shuddered, closing her eyes and tilting her head to give him better access.
What came next? She couldn’t work out his next move in her head. Every sensation, every movement, was unpredictable.
