Page 49 of Storm's Deliverance

She kisses me back without hesitation, matching every ounce of intensity I give her. Her fingers curl on my chest as her nails lightly graze my skin.

The world narrows to her breath, her touch, the taste of her. Nothing else exists. Nothing else matters. I pull her closer, unable to stop myself, needing her nearer, even when there’s barely any space left between us. My pulse pounds violently in my chest. One kiss. That’s all it takes with her. One kiss, and my entire body is at war with itself. The rational part of me is screaming to stop, but the rest of me is already lost. Her hands slide lower, slow and deliberate, but the instant they reach my waist, reality crashes back into me. I break the kiss—hard—and it’s like tearing myself away from an addiction. I stumble back a step, dragging in a sharp breath.

She just stares at me, bewildered and breathless. Her lips are swollen from my kiss as her chest rises and falls too fast. Desire burns in her eyes, bright enough to bring me to my fucking knees.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

I rake a hand through my hair and turn away for half a second, desperately trying to regain control, to remember why stopping is the right thing to do, because every instinct I possess is demanding the opposite. Every glance. Every touch. Every shaky breath she takes. It’s all pushing me towards the edge, and God fucking help me, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold myself back.

She lets out a soft giggle and shakes her head. Strange reaction. I don’t think I’ve ever been laughed at after kissing someone, especially a kiss like that. “You aren’t going to touch me, are you?” she asks, looking up at me with sadness in her eyes.

“No!” I rasp, forcing the word out.

“So, what is it? Is it the fact that I can’t be touched? Or is it because you’re scared you will hurt me?”

“You’re not ready,” I tell her honestly.

She nods, not saying anything, just looking down at her hands. “And when will you deem me to be ready?” she snaps, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She blinks rapidly, lifting her chin defiantly.

I move to her, taking firm hold of her chin. I catch the slightest flicker of fear in her eyes. I force her to look at me, to see that I want her, that I mean every fucking word. “When the fear is no longer in your eyes, when you no longer flinch if one of the brothers shouts, and when you stand toe to toe with me fighting back.” I pause, my thumb brushing lightly across her bottom lip. “When you want me, my touch, my fucking patch.” She sucks in a shuddery breath. “When you aren’t just using me to forget. I will help you find yourself, BB, but I won’t let you do something that will be a regret.” I press my lips to her temple, a soft lingering kiss.

“Drix.” She says my name with heartbreaking saddness. An underlying guilt maybe?.

Unable to bare to hear that in her voice, I move towards the door. I stop and look at her over my shoulder. “Get in the damn truck, BB,” I order.

She blinks, stunned slightly at the switch in conversation.

“Move it, BB. I don’t have all night,” I goad, wanting that sadness, that awkwardness, gone.

She frowns and folds her arms across her chest. “Alright! There is no need to be an ass about it,” she snaps.

I smirk as she stomps past me, still swaying slightly on her feet.