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Cilla was panting, her hands now pressed to her own chest, her breasts shaking as she breathed. She took a step back, her eyes wide. Was that shock? Disgust? Had the intensity and depth of need in his kiss scare her away?
Had he fucking lost her because of his ravenous, beastly needs?
“No! That can’t happen again,” she cried out, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. Her eyes were dilated, her lips parted, her cheeks pink, but there wasn’t fear there in her expression. There was only disbelief, confusion, and wariness. She wanted him—wanted what he could give her, but she was unsure, uncertain.
He could work with that.
“We can’t do this,” she blurted again, pressing the back of her hand to her trembling mouth.
His first thought was “why the fuck not?” but then a more level-headed voice prevailed.
She wasn’t ready, not for what he had in mind. Not for the beast nor his master. He’d rein him in…until she was just as hungry and needful as he was.
He wanted to bend her over the couch and fuck her like a goddamn animal. He wanted to let the dark creature, born and bred in desert battles, to let loose and mark her as theirs.
But that had to wait.
He was done with lying to himself. He was done denying himself what they both wanted. No, he wasn’t pure, untainted, or even human any longer, but he knew that being with Cilla would ease the pain of being living, breathing darkness. With Cilla at his side, in his life, in his bed, he could finally find peace…light…happiness.
He just had to be patient, because while he wanted Cilla as his ol’ lady, things were…complicated.
How had he forgotten about the shit storm that was Jaime and her demand for his “boyfriend” services? It had been two days since he’d last taken her call, but that didn’t stop her from texting and calling all day. He’d agreed to her plan, only because he didn’t want her talking to her brother about their indiscretion three years ago before he got a chance to get face-to-face with Stallion and admit to him, man to man, that he’d fucked up.
Fuck.
Jaime.
He needed to figure his shit out before he put a claim on Cilla.
He just didn’t know how to go about untangling himself from a woman who was dealing with her own drama. He’d seen things like that before, where the boyfriend didn’t take hearing “no” very well, and turned into a fucking asshole creeper. So far, Jaime had been tight lipped about who the asshole stalking her was, which wasn’t a surprise. Jaime never liked having things out of her control, which meant Patriot was on the line to help her, but his reach was limited. Then again, it wasn’t all that difficult to shoot a text to Red, the MC tech nerd, whose full road name was Redtube after the porn site he pretty much kept in business all on his own, the perv. Hey, Patriot enjoyed porn like any regular guy, but Red took it too far.
Patriot mentally shuddered, and brought himself back into the moment and the woman glaring at him like an angry bunny—all soft and adorable, but watch out for sharp teeth!
Before she could retreat like her eyes were telling him she would, he reached out and cupped her face in his large hands. He brushed his thumbs over the apples of her cheeks, over her chin, then over the lips he’d kissed…he’d devoured…he fucking needed to kiss again.
But he stopped himself.
The look of fear and something else in her eyes told him that she wouldn’t be receptive to more yet.
But she would be. In time. And time he would give her, because he still had shit to get done before he could worship her like he longed to do.
He pressed her forehead against hers, closed his eyes, and sighed.
She was stiff at first, but her could feel her melt into him the longer they stood there in silence.
God…she was everything.
Finally, he spoke. “You’re right.” Slowly, he pulled back, his gaze locked on hers. Her eye lids fluttered as if she were fighting the urge to close them, to lean into his touch.
“I…I am?” she muttered, her voice husky as fuck. Damn. Her mouth may be saying their kiss was a mistake, but her body was just as affected as his was.
He smirked, loving how hazy her gaze was, and how flushed her cheeks were, and how shallow her breathing was.
Yeah, she was affected, and that was something he would use. Later.
“Yeah, baby,” he murmured against the flesh of her forehead, his lips skimming her warm skin. “You’re right. We shouldn’t do that again.”
Immediately, she tensed, coiling to pull back.
