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34
Leonid
—
A knot unfurls deep inside me, and with each toe-curling sweep of Frankie’s tongue against mine, it loosens further, faster, undoing me.
She’s so soft and vulnerable yet, at the same time, wildly assertive as she climbs my body and grinds her hips, coming at me like an angry little thundercloud.
I’m right there with her. Hell, my hunger for her is never-ending. It pounds me, surge after surge, breaking me down and smashing apart my excuses, my reasons for mistreating her, my attempts to keep her at a distance.
Sex is one thing. A physical act that requires no trust or affection. But this? This dire need to consume her, to dig a hole inside her and live there? This isn’t normal. Not for me.
But I can’t stop myself from clawing at her coat and leggings as if her clothing offends me. Too much separates us. I need her bare.
“Hang on.” I lift her before she protests, wrapping her legs around my waist and gunning for the workshop.
“What are you doing?” She clutches my shoulders, eyes wide.
In that moment, she can’t hide her fear. It strikes me in the chest with the force of a clenched fist, only to be swiftly concealed as she empties her expression, adopting an artful display of indifference.
I don’t like it. I’d rather she scream and bite and curse me to hell than watch her crawl back into a wordless, carved-out shell of herself again.
“I’m protecting you.” Aiming toward the back door of the workshop, I pick up my pace.
“Protecting me from what?”
“The cold.” And other predators.
Snowflakes glisten on unruly waves of red hair and cling to her lashes. She’s so fucking arresting I can’t silence the animalistic growl rising in my chest. It’s the beast in me, howling to break free and claim the tiny creature in my arms.
I slide a hand down the back of her head and grip the base of her fragile skull, trying to calm myself.
She blinks the frozen flakes from her eyes, her body tensing to react. She’s going to fight me. I just know it.
But as her hands shift to the collar of my coat, it’s not to shove me away. She wrenches us closer, deleting the icy pocket of air between us, and smashes her mouth to mine.
My gait staggers, and I nearly trip. But I’m too alert to fall. Too determined. I want this woman, and I’m going to show her in more ways than a messy wet kiss.
My breath comes in short, excited huffs. Two more steps, and I can’t fucking breathe. But I feel her. Christ, I feel her all around me, pulling me in as hard as I pull her.
Through the back door of the workshop, I tighten my embrace and kiss the fuck out of her, crushing her hard against my chest until she’s cocooned, imprisoned, unable to escape.
Her heat intoxicates. Her lips bruise. And her cherry scent, warm and feminine, pervades everywhere I press my nose.
“Leo.” Her forehead drops to mine, and her sigh teases my mouth. “What are we doing?”
“Getting warm.” Reluctantly, I set her on an old stool, flick on a few lights, and step toward the coal stove. “Remove your coat.”
“I didn’t realize…” She looks around the large empty building, pausing on the garage door that expands the entire back wall. “There’s this whole other side of the workshop. It’s big enough to fit a plane.”
“We store the bush plane in here through the winter. The door to the front side of the workshop is there.” I gesture at the far end and open the stovepipe damper on the stove.
She doesn’t move.
“Your coat, Frankie.” My hands shake as I strike a match and touch it to the waiting burnables.
“You first.”
With a smirk, I remove my coat and toss it on the workbench behind me. My T-shirt does little to ward off the chill, but it’ll be warm within minutes. In more ways than one.
“Your turn.” I flick a finger in her direction.
A hush falls over the space, leaving only the sound of the zipper as she slides it open, each inch revealing a glimpse of the prize that lies beneath. Slowly, she rises from the stool, and her slender fingers work their way down, separating the metal teeth, one by one, tracing an invisible path down her body, teasing me.
In all my years trapped here, I never let myself hope. I never imagined being lucky enough to witness such a glorious unveiling.
The anticipation is unbearable. My heart races as I watch her, snowflakes melting on her face, her hair, her legs, accentuating her ethereal form. The stove grumbles and crackles, but at the moment, all I hear is the galloping in my chest.
As the coat cascades down her arms, it reveals slim hips in tight leggings, drawing my gaze toward the sinful promise at the apex of her thighs.
