Page 58 of Guarded Knight

Her hand burns in mine, heat searing up my arm, locking me in place. My head spins, every sense on overload, dragging in the scent of hay and her shampoo, the sound of her sharp breaths, the way her lips part.

God, those lips. The beautiful heart shape they make, soft and slick with gloss. I shouldn’t be thinking about them, not when danger’s closing in. Not when I should be healing this rift of ours with friendship instead of this unhinged need to claim her.

We cannot be together. Not like that.

You’re staying, G.

She’s leaving.

Xander wouldn’t want me bringing broken into her life…

I could stack the reasons why not a million miles high, carve them into stone, etch them into my own skin, and still my cock presses hard against my zipper, still my lips ache to crash into hers.

We’re too close, but I can’t make myself let go.

She yanks her hand back, but there’s no real fight in it, and I hang on for a beat longer, refusing to let her slip. The spark of challenge in her shifts. Her lips part, just barely, and the fire in her gaze turns molten, sliding into something else.

Something like permission.

Her hand flexes in mine but she doesn’t try to free it from my grip. It feels like a yes, even though she hasn’t said a word.

And every part of me wants to seize it—her, us, everything I buried years ago but never stopped guarding.

Strands of blonde hair have slipped free, framing her wild pixie eyes. Her body sends a warm current along my skin, static and dangerous. I shouldn’t want her like this. I shouldn’t want her at all. If one kiss hurt us that much back then, doing more would kill me.

She deserves better.

I lean in, my mouth hovering a breath away from hers, every muscle screaming to close the distance while my chest coils tighter with restraint. For one suspended moment, I almost stop myself.

Almost save us both.

“I’m not losing you,” I murmur, voice rougher than I mean it to be.

She swallows hard and lowers her gaze, lashes sweeping down. “I’m not yours to lose.”

“Lara…” I raise her hand above her head and guide her two paces back until she lands softly on the solid wood between two stalls. I tip her chin up with my knuckles, forcing her to see me, to see the truth.

“You’ve always been mine.”

And then my lips are on hers, inevitable, as if I was never going to stop myself.

It’s not a kiss. It’s a wildfire. Teeth, heat, desperation—everything I’ve been holding back ignites at once. My hands are on her, her delicate jawline, in her hair, on her waist…pulling her so close I can’t tell where she ends and I begin.

She gasps, her hands fisting in my shirt, and I press her against the stall door. The wood makes a soft thud behind her when I thrust my hips between her thighs, seeking more contact. The musk of horse and her perfume fills the air.

“Gabriel…” she breathes into my mouth.

I want to do more, pleasure her, anything that will make her say my name like that again.

It’s the most dangerous sound I’ve ever heard. Because she’s talking to the man I once was, or the one who’s been buried. But it’s like her voice alone can raise me from the dead.

I grind against her, every muscle trembles with restraint and need. She’s so much smaller than me, but she moves with fearless fire writhing on my body, stronger than she looks. I tangle my fingers in her hair, cradle her jaw with my palm, and take her mouth like she’s the last thing I’ll ever taste on this earth.

And underneath the hunger, I try to be sensible, to know this could fuck everything up when we say goodbye again.

It’s everything I swore I’d never let myself take.

I cup her breast outside her sweater. It’s pert, and my hand enjoys every inch of it. Her hand slides lower, my lungs still, and before I can brace myself, she undoes my belt. I’m hard as steel, straining for her, every pulse of blood a countdown to ruin.