Page 164 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4

Her cheeks slowly shaded pink, like she felt it too. She claimed she wasn’t in the mood, but when he loosened the hands on her wrists, danced fingertips across the soft inner skin of her arm, she didn’t dart away.

She let out a shuddering sigh and swayed toward him.

“It seems to me you are in the mood,tesoro,” he said, his voice pained gravel. “Perhaps you are always in the mood when it comes to me, no matter how youfeelabout me.”

He watched her face in fascination, in crackling, divided hope—that she might finally step away and leave him to this pain that he had chased down by coming to her room. Pain that was his due and the only thing he knew how to deal with.

And the other feeling one of hope, just as sharp and disastrous, that she might lean forward and dive into this chemistry he should not allow to exist. He should never allow himself to hope for.

But if he allowed it, if he fanned this flame and saw it to its completion, he would have ruined everything, and wasn’t that the punishment he really wanted?

He lowered his head. She didn’t stop him. She held his gaze as her breath caught in her throat, but she did not pull or push away. She did not turn her head.

And when his mouth touched hers, still waiting for her to stop this madness, she only sighed and leaned in. Just as she had the first time their mouths had touched. All gentle, careful exploration, when everything inside him was the opposite.

There was a raging, clawing beast inside his chest. He didn’t understand why it didn’t burst free, why the kiss remained gentle, why his grip on her was soft as it traveled up her arms to her shoulders to bring her closer.

“This will solve nothing,” she murmured, there against his mouth, even as she pressed herself against him.

“Good.” Because he didn’t want to solve. He wanted to ruin.

Once and for all.

So he changed the angle of the kiss, the weight of his grasp, and threw them into the fire.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ameliaknewshecould stop this. The thought revolved in the back of her mind. It was too much, and all she had to do was sayno.

She didn’t want to. All the unknown things that lay on the other side were far too alluring.

No, this solved nothing. They could see this physical combustion through to the other side, and all that lay shattered and confused and undetermined would still exist and need dealing with.

But even without solutions, this was something. She could give him something good. He could give her something good. And if all that was left on the other side was wreckage, then at least she would be forced toact, tobe.

To stop hiding here, not as different as his isolation as she’d like to pretend. That was what bringing him back had done. Maybe it hadn’t fixed him, but it had made her realize just whatshe’dbeen doing.

It was a precipice, between hiding and surviving and flying and living. And if she let this moment expand and grow, if she gave over to the powerful chemistry between them, it would be choosing to grow up, to fly, to live.

It was time.

And then his grip tightened, and all thought was gone. She was nothing but a skittering heartbeat and throbbing pulse. She was nothing but a body, desperate to find pleasure in another body.

His low, throaty growl was one of possession, and it rumbled through her like expensive liquor. Smooth and brutal and potent. His hands moved up, fingers tangling in her hair. His tongue moved inside her mouth, tangling with her own, an almost violent fight for…something. She didn’t know what, but she wanted to engage in it anyway.

She felt cool air and realized belatedly he was pulling her shirt up. He dragged his mouth away from hers, but only long enough to tug her shirt off and drop it on the ground. His mouth back on hers in seconds, his rough hands now on the bare skin of her back.

This was perhaps too much, too out of control.

And shelovedit. The way her thoughts scattered and the only thing she could focus on was the jangling reaction of her body, the heat of his. The wild, twirling ride of his hands on her bare skin.

She wanted more. She threw herself into the kiss, into the dark, exotic taste of him, all while her fingers worked blindly to undo the buttons of his shirt. Once she’d succeeded, she pushed the shirt off, reveling in the sheer size of his shoulders, the hard muscle that existed there. Tense and vibrating while his mouth devoured hers, and his hands streaked down her back, cupping the curve of her bottom and pulling her flush with the hard length of him.

She moaned into his mouth, which tightened his grip and had sparks of throbbing, potent desire alighting every nerve ending. She wanted to ask him for something, but she had no words. Only noises.

Every touch was flame and joy. His teeth scraped down her neck, and she felt as though she’d been thrown into another universe, where pain and pleasure were one, and everything she wanted.

Over and over again.