Page 29 of Grim’s Angel

“There is no contract in this house,” he says. “Nothing happens because somebody paid for it, expects it, or taught you that love has to be earned.”

“What happens, then?”

“Whatever you ask me for.”

“I choose this.” I curl my fingers into his shirt. “I choose you.”

His mouth takes mine.

He begins with restraint, but it fractures when I pull him closer. His tongue strokes across mine, coaxing my lips apart before the kiss deepens into something dark and consuming.

The sound he makes travels through me.

His hand tightens in my hair while the other draws my body against his. I feel every hard line of him, including the thick ridge pressing against my stomach.

Heat gathers low in my belly.

Grim turns us without breaking the kiss and guides me backward until I sit on the edge of the kitchen table. The loose knot of my robe gives way, allowing the fabric to fall open.

His gaze moves over the blue camisole, my bare thighs, and every curve I usually try to disguise.

Instinct makes me reach for the edges of the robe.

Grim catches them without pulling them apart.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing you haven’t seen in the photograph.”

“That photograph showed me an asset.” His silver eyes hold mine. “I’m looking at my Angel.”

The possessive words should frighten me. From him, they sound like reverence instead of ownership.

“You barely know me.”

“I know you’re brave while you’re scared. I know you use humor when you want to cry. I know your family taught you to apologize for existing.” His thumbs brush the edges of my robe. “Every time you try to make yourself smaller, I want to show you how much of you I can worship.”

My breath leaves me.

His eyes darken. “You’re beautiful.”

“You say that as if it’s a verdict.”

“It is. No appeal.”

He kisses me again before following the line of my jaw toward my throat. His mouth closes over the pulse beneath my skin, drawing a helpless sound from me.

His hands slide beneath my robe and travel over my thighs. When I tense, he stops.

“Tell me.”

“I want more.”

His palms move higher.

“Here?”

“Yes.”