Page 110 of Bite Me

Emma

My lips are sore from Dacre’s kisses, but every second that I wait while he rummages around in his nightstand, I’m assaulted with a maddening urge in my skull to kiss him again and again until he finishes what he started. Or did I start this?

Doesn’t matter. Either way, I’m ready to continue it.

Dacre loves me, and I actually believe him.

“I’m on the potion. I started it today, but the nurse said it would work.”

“This is for something else.”

I grip the sheets as that mind numbing urge rushes through me again. It’s so much worse when he isn’t touching me.

“Can you hurry?” I whimper.

His fingers dig into my thigh as he emerges, now wearing a mask on his lower face. I still see his emerald eyes and his hair, but a mask now hooks around his ears and covers his nose and mouth.

My heart kicks as he towers over me, his bare chest and muscles all perfect and glistening in the light. He’s so rigid, as if it’s difficult to hold back.

This must be the protection he was talking about. It’s . . . hot.

“I’m right here, Em.”

I almost forget about the aching pain in my abdomen, thinking instead of licking his abs.

“Dacre?” I hook a finger in his hair, then another, as he leans in closer.

“Second thoughts?”

“I . . . was thinking about how much I want this.”

He presses a palm against my face. “I’m going to take care of you, Emma. I mean it.”

My cheeks burn as I take another breath. The three words I want to say are on the tip of my tongue till he tugs me forward to the edge of the bed. He probably doesn’t think I’ll say it back.

Now that his mouth is covered, he’s feeling more with his hands, tracing the curves under my breast and along my nipples. His pupils are blown out to a proportion that makes him look like a crazed animal.

“Dacre. I can’t wait. I need—”

The warmth of his hand skims my belly. Then I feel him, inch by inch, as he moves inside me. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s tight pressure.

I stop him by placing my hand on top of his. “That’s a lot.”

He squeezes my hand, rubbing his thumb across the top. “We’ll go slowly.”

Our fingers intertwine as he inches deeper. I shimmy, slowly opening to the new sensation. It’s not until he’s fully inside me that relief washes over me.

“Oh, stars,” I moan.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s as if he knows my deepest fears and wants. When did all that anxiety and resistance fall out of me? My confession at the door? Maybe it was the minute his lips hit mine. I grab at his arms and his chest, anything to get his skin on mine.

Or maybe it was all the way back at initiation. The night his voice was in my head changed everything. I think I knew then that I was in trouble, but I refused to admit it.

The rhythm of his hips pulls sounds from me I’ve never made before. That aching pain melts into pure bliss with every thrust inside me.

“I love you.”