Page 124 of Bitten & Burned

But this was different.

His hands were different.

One fisted in the front of my blouse, as if he let go, he’d lose me. The other slid into my hair, fingers trembling, like he needed to be sure I was real.

His face was rain-slick and tense, his lips parted. I could feel the moment he gave in.

His breath hitched. His eyes dropped to my mouth. And then?—

He kissed me.

Gods, he kissed me.

I exhaled into it like I’d been drowning. Wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulled him closer, even closer.

His kiss wasn’t gentle—his kisses never had been. But this wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t even just frustration.

It was ravenous—the kind of hunger that left no survivors.

Like he’d been starving and only just realized I was the thing he needed to live.

My hands slid into his wet hair, dragging him closer. I felt the sharp edge of his teeth. The softness of his lips. The groan that built in his throat and edged into my mouth.

My knees nearly gave out. I wanted to crawl inside him. To scream. To cry. To bite him.

I wanted him everywhere. Bruising me. Holding me. Loving me.

I nearly jumped into his arms—very nearly. My thighs twitched with the need to wrap around his hips, to press my whole body to his, like maybe I could fuse us together and finally make sense of everything that had gone so wrong.

But I didn’t. I stayed grounded. Barely.

And then?—

He broke away with a growl.

Pulled back like he’d been burned.

Spun on his heel and started pacing again, dragging his hands through his wet hair, teeth bared to the storm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed, shaking. “Why did I—fuck.”

“What’s wrong? Quil?”

“Don’t… just… I love you. I fucking hate that I love you, but I do. I fucking love you, Rowena. I hate it. But I do.”

I swallowed, tears hot and wet, quivering unshed in my eyes.

This wasn’t… how I wanted to hear this. For the first time. Or ever.

“Why is it that the first ‘I love you’ I get is from someone who doesn’t want it? What kind of person does that make me?”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at me. Stood there with his perfect dark eyes, pouty lips, and strong arms that I’d give anything to have wrapped around me.

But he hated that he loved me. That was worse than just flat-out hating me. Fucking hells.

I willed the tears not to fall. A few still did, but the rain hid them as I backed away from him.

“Rowena, sweetheart…” Quil reached for me, but I yanked my hand away, shaking my head.