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My grip on her waist tightens, pulling her close. “What did I say about using my title?” I roll my hips against her, loving the way she gasps when she feels my hardness.
Yes, I’m hard as rock.
Yes, it’s for her.
Yes, I’m struggling to think of even one reason why we shouldn’t do this.
“We shouldn’t do this,” Rowan whispers, teasing my jaw with her fingertips.
“Do what?” I lean down, letting my lips hover just an inch from hers.
Rowan smiles, shaking her head. She’s so sweet when she’s like this. Pliable. When her tongue isn’t sharp and her smiles are easy. I want more. “Kiss, Wolfe. We shouldn’t kiss.”
I nearly groan when she says my name. I thought I enjoyed the sass of her using my title. I thought I liked that she spat it at me like an insult.
My name sounds so much better.
“Why not, princess?”
“I’m not a princess.”
“And you didn’t answer the question.”
“Because we’d regret it.” Her thumb brushes my chin, just under the curve of my lip.
“I wouldn’t.” I growl, closing my eyes. How can her touch feel so good?
“I would.” Her voice is so soft, I barely catch it. Pulling away, I look into her ocean-blue eyes. She gives me a sad smile, shaking her head.
I frown, thinking about the past two weeks. Has there been a day, an hour, where I haven’t thought of Rowan? Has there been a night I haven’t snuck into the library to see if I’d find her sleeping? Has there been any other woman on my mind, or any question about what I want to do to her?
“Why would you regret it?”
“You’re a prince.”
“I’m a man.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Of me?” I frown.
Rowan smiles, her fingers still teasing my jaw. My neck. Toying with the edges of my hair. She shakes her head. “Of how quickly I’ll fall for you.”
“You think I’m an asshole.”
“I make a lot of bad decisions.”
“So why not make one more?”
Rowan pulls away, shaking her head. “You’re dangerous, Wolfe.”
I drop my hand from her waist and grin, catching her hand. “Come on. I’ll show you something you’ll like.”
