Page 57

"That's it," I murmur.

"D-don't touch me like that."

"Then make me stop."

His fingers curl hard against my chest, not shoving this time, just holding on. When I slide my hand from his waist to his side, lower this time, gliding over wet skin and the hard line of his stomach, he breaks the kiss with a sharp inhale that sounds halfway undone.

"Good," I murmur, dragging my thumb once over his lower lip.

Maybe he's not a little mouse after all. Maybe he's something sharper, all hissing and claws, a pretty little thing that bites back the second you try to hold him still.

His eyes fly open, but I don't let him get far.

I follow him in, dragging my mouth over his, then catching his lower lip between my teeth just enough to hold him there for a beat before I soothe it with my tongue when he shudders. My hand keeps moving while I do it, tracing over the tense plane of his stomach, feeling him flinch under my palm. Then I brush lower, just enough to make him jerk hard against me and break with another breathless sound that goes straight through what's left of my restraint.

"C-Ciaran⁠—"

I lick into the kiss before murmuring, low and rough and far too pleased, "You taste good, little mouse."

His whole body tightens.

"So angry," I whisper against his lips, slow enough to feel the tremor in them. "And still opening for me."

The words hit exactly where I want them to. His fingers clutch harder into me like he can't decide whether to push me off or pull me closer.

I break the kiss just enough to look at him, at the flush high on his face, the water clinging to his lashes, the way his lips look swollen now, and I let my thumb drag over his mouth before I murmur, "Sweet enough to make me wonder what else you've been hiding."

That hits. His breath fractures, and that beautiful, furious mouth parts while he stares at me like he wants to deny every second of this and can't quite remember how.

"C-Ciaran⁠—"

My name comes out hoarse and frayed, and when he tries to push at my shoulder again it's stronger this time, real resistance finally kicking in as the heat gives way to panic and anger.

I let my hand slide back over the flat of his stomach, slow enough that he feels every inch of it, my thumb pressing lightly just above the line where he'd really lose his mind. Rowan jerks against me, breath hitching so sharply it almost sounds like pain.

"See?" I murmur, brushing my mouth over his once before I add, lower, "You keep acting like you want me gone, and your body keeps doing the opposite."

He shoves at me properly this time, both hands coming up, trying to force space between us. I let him move me half an inch before I catch him, one hand clamping at his hip under the water, the other sliding up to close around the side of his throat.

It isn't enough to hurt him, only to stop him.

His whole body freezes.

His breath snags. His eyes go wide. My thumb settles under his jaw, holding his head tipped back just enough that he has to look at me while the water rocks around us and his breath comes fast and shallow against my wrist.

"You keep fighting me," I murmur, my mouth brushing the corner of his. "But the second I hold you still, you stop."

His lips part on a thin, furious inhale. "L-let go."

I tighten my hand just enough to interrupt the next breath before I ease it again. His chest heaves against mine, and the band at his wrist gives one sharp pulse.

That gets my attention.

The band is the line, and I'm not stupid enough to ignore it.

So I loosen my grip, not letting him go, just giving him air, and the second he drags in a breath, his whole body trembles against me like a live wire.

"Better," I murmur. "Use your words."