Page 15 of Urgent Vows
"We need to get back to the reception," I say, fatigue pulling at me again as my adrenalin recedes.
"How is your hand?" Severu asks without agreeing.
"The ice is helping." I shrug and my ribs shift. I gasp from the pain. "I think I need more painkillers, but a regular analgesic, not a narcotic."
I do not want to be more nauseated than I already am.
He pulls out his phone and texts something. At least that's what I assume he's doing.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he looks at me. "We are leaving. Your injuries have gone long enough without being seen to."
"What? No, we need to cut the cake at least. I'll hide my hand in my skirt. It will be fine. I'm right-handed anyway."
He bends down and then scoops me up from the chair, so I'm cradled against his chest. Then he takes my place in the chair with me settled on his lap.
"We are going home, but don't worry. The guests won't wonder why we've gone."
"Wha—"
I'm cut off when his mouth lands over mine. Severu's lips are gentle and coaxing, not like our first kiss. He tastes like whiskey. I want more of that flavor. More of him. Darn ovaries. I open my mouth and taste his with the tip of my tongue.
He groans and the kiss goes from gentle to demanding in a heartbeat, though his hold on me never tightens. His tongue comes out to slide against mine, then thrust into my mouth and electric shocks zing straight to my core.
I try to shift, needing something, but that causes another sensation. One not nearly as pleasant. Pain.
I do not say anything but it's as if he knows, because he breaks the kiss to say, "Do not move,mi dolce gatto."
No one has ever shortened my name to Cat, not even at school. Now, Severu is calling memy sweet cat. Having him use such a personalized endearment is almost as arousing as his kisses.
Nodding my agreement not to move, I tilt toward his lips again, wanting more of his kisses. He gives them to me, his hand coming up to cup my nape.
His thumb brushes along my jaw and it feels so good, I shiver.
Severu lifts his mouth from mine again and gives me a stern look. "I said, no moving."
"I can't help shivering. That's an automatic response."
"No moving," he says again.
"I'll try."
"Good girl."
Ice water douses the desire heating up my insides.
That's what he said when he pushed me to dance with my father.
"What is it?" Severu asks, his gaze searching mine.
"I am not agood girl. I don't want to be one either when it means getting hurt."
He grimaces. "That should not have happened."
"But it did."
"It will never happen again."
Can I believe him?
