Page 36

I no longer let desire rule me.

Until tonight.

Until Larimar batted her damn lashes and stared up at me with those seductive lilac eyes, asking for me to treat her kindly, if I knew what loneliness was, as if I hadn’t spent most of my life in its clutches.

So fucking lonely.

Then, she told me to kiss her until she couldn’t speak, and all I wanted to do was exactly that. To stop her from saying those words that were starting to sink into my heart like bile. To feel her lips and her tongue and taste her so deeply that she’d become part of my veins.

But desire didn’t win out—not at first.

Instead, it was anger, a fanged, hairy shadow that shot out of me as I grabbed her throat.

I hold it now, my fingers squeezing her soft skin tightly, and I’m watching the light start to leave her beautiful eyes. In this moment, I know I’m willing to kill her to not feel anything for her.

This terrifies me.

She terrifies me.

I let her go.

She gasps, her hands going to her throat to soothe the bruises I left behind.

I think to those early mornings on the mountain.

I think of birdsong until the anger dissipates.

Anger quickly replaced with desire.

And for desire, there is no cure.

I want her.

I need her.

I reach out again and grab her face, holding it roughly in one hand while my other hand goes to her hair, making a tight fist. I want to see if her tongue tastes like sugared, salted lemons.

She lets out a cry, her mouth falling open, petulant and pink and wet.

Blood thrums in my groin as lust takes hold.

And I lean into it. Lean into her.

I kiss her.

I kiss her hard.

This is punishment.

For her for being a little brat.

For me for not kissing her earlier.

Christ, I want to kiss her until we both choke on it.

When was the last time I felt a woman’s lips? I can’t remember, but my body knows exactly what it wants. It wants her tongue fucking my mouth, slick and soft. It wants her greedy little moans.

She gives me both, offering them up on a silver platter.