Page 122 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
His eyes flare, a desert night teeming with secrets. He’s gazing into me, too, and I know what he sees.
Total desperation.
“Stop fighting it and kiss me,” I whisper.
After last time, I want him to initiate.
I wantHoldento kiss me and tear the air from my lungs because he can’t stand to do anything less.
Because he feels the same animalistic call in his blood.
There’s a brutal, dark moment where I don’t think he’ll give in, control freak that he is. He’s older and wiser and why would he want the trouble?
I’m such an idiot.
He can wear that desire on his face without blowing up his life. He can touch me and walk away without turning into ash.
Then he releases a long, harsh breath and shoves me against him, gripping my ass as he brings his mouth down on mine, lips burning.
Finally!
Sweet heaven.
I kiss him back like mad, moaning, one hand tracing his neck, holding him against me. He overwhelms every sense as he opens his mouth and growls so hard it vibrates my bones.
His tongue claims my bottom lip until I welcome him in.
I suck him deeper into my mouth, needy as hell.
He groans.
He devours me.
Holden’s big, rough hands are everywhere. My hips, my waist, skimming up my sides until his thumbs brush my breasts.
Me, I’m just trying to hold on.
My nails rake through his short thick hair, grazing his scalp until he grunts. My other hand explores his shoulders, broad as the horizon holding up the sky.
This man is pure granite.
Miles of hard, carved rock and secret valleys.
Wild, wild country, certain to strand me in the wilderness, and baby, I’m ready.
Moaning, I dig my fingers into his skin.
More guttural approval in his throat. More breath and heat and desire against my lips, my throat, my collarbone.
Snarling, he yanks down my shirt, sucking hard, adding teeth.
“You asked for this, Nile. Don’t cry when I mark you.”
I’m so effing gone.
But at least we’re going down together, spinning off into senseless lust where it becomes elemental.
The fire of our skin.
