Page 318
Sweet presses against me, and every instinct in my body wakes up hungry.
I still let her lead.
At first.
She kisses my jaw, then my throat, before coming back to my mouth with enough intent that my hands curl uselessly at my sides.
Sweet pulls back.
“Why aren't you touching me?”
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
“For you.”
Her expression changes.
Then she takes both my hands and puts them on her waist.
“You can touch me.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
I slide my palms around her carefully.
She shivers.
My forehead drops against hers.
“You sure?”
Sweet exhales.
“Bitter.”
“What?”
“If you ask whether I'm sure every six seconds, I am going to become violent.”
“Hot.”
“Bitter.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you're not.”
“No.”
She laughs against my mouth.
I kiss her again.
This time my hands move when she pulls me closer, slowly at first, relearning instead of claiming.
