Page 27 of Kane

I stalked toward her, blood burning under my skin. “You think this is funny?”

“I think it’s ridiculous.” Her chin tilted defiantly. “You brought me downstairs. You fed me. Then got pissed because I had a conversation with someone who doesn’t treat me like a live grenade.”

“I treat you like something dangerous because you are.”

She snickered with narrowed eyes. “To you? Or your carefully laid plans?”

“Both,” I growled, stepping in close and letting my shadow fall over hers. “You’ve been here for nine days, and every damn day you look at me like you want something. But you don’t fucking ask for what we both know you want.”

Her eyes flicked to my mouth, just for a second. “If you don’t want me looking at you like that, maybe you should stop kissing me.”

“I never said I wanted you to stop.”

She blinked, then swallowed hard.

The air went tight between us. Charged, like lightning coiled in the sky, waiting to strike.

Her lips parted slightly, and her breath caught.

Fuck. I was so damn fucked.

I stepped in the rest of the way, one hand sliding around her waist, the other bracing beside her head against the door. “I warned you, Savannah.”

Her lashes fluttered, but she held her ground. “Warned me about what?”

My hand fisted the front of her shirt, dragging her against me. “That if you kept testing me, I’d stop giving a fuck about restraint.”

Then I kissed her.

She didn’t even finish inhaling before I had her back against the door, mouth crushed beneath mine, hands grabbing her hips like I could mold her to my fucking body and erase the past half hour from existence. Her breath hitched in surprise, but the second I bit her bottom lip and sucked it between my teeth, she moaned. Loud and needy, like she’d been waiting for this.

Hell, maybe she had.

Her fingers curled in the front of my cut, yanking me even closer, and I lost whatever thin thread of restraint I had left. I lifted her straight off the floor, and her legs wrapped around my waist, her body arching into mine, soft curves against the hard planes of my chest. My back hit the door, the old wood shuddering as I slammed her against me, letting her feel the full extent of how hard she’d made me.

“You think this is a game, sugar?” I growled against her mouth, my voice frayed. “Think you can smile at my brothers and test how far I’ll go before I snap?”

She gasped when I ground my cock into her core. “Kane…”

“Yeah, baby,” I bit out, nipping at her jaw and tasting the salt of her skin. “Say my fucking name.”

Her fingers threaded in my hair as I kissed down her neck, open-mouthed and punishing, marking her like I had every right to. Because I fucking did. She was mine.

Mine.

I walked her to the bed like that, bodies locked together, her breath coming in ragged little pants against my throat. When I dropped her on the mattress, she bounced once, her blond hair spilling wild around her shoulders, blue eyes dazed and dark with want.

I peeled off my cut, then my shirt, tossing them aside without looking away from Savannah. Her gaze tracked every inch of me, and when her teeth sank into that plush lower lip, I almost came in my jeans like a damn teenager.

“Take off your clothes,” I rasped.

She hesitated, flushed and breathing shakily.

“Now, Savannah.” It was an order this time. One I expected to be obeyed.

She sat up slowly, tugging her shirt over her head and dropping it to the floor.

Fucking hell. No bra. Just smooth, bare skin and perfect fucking tits.