Page 15 of Harvest Maze

“I’ll check the house.” I stepped inside and closed the door.

Ivry shook her head. “No. Whatever it was, it’s done.”

There was an awkward pause where we stared at one another. Her gaze dipped to my mouth, but she startled and looked back into my eyes.

Air strangled in my throat.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said with a shy smile. “I feel…safe.”

My hands fisted at my sides. I had to physically restrain myself from kissing her senseless.

And then, she dropped the biggest bomb of all. “Can you stay?”

Fuck it.

I closed the distance in two steps. “Anything for you, kráska.”

I bent over her. One hand fell on her side, the other slid around the back of her head. And my mouth covered hers in a hard, possessive kiss.

Chapter 8 – Ivry

Grabbing the front of his shirt, I kissed him back. His lips were warm and soft, but that was the only thing soft about this man. His touch was possessive, holding me in place. Those hands could break me. The kiss deepened quickly, and my tongue brushed against his mouth. I wanted to consume him.

Demyan made to pull away, but I clamped my knees around his hips and whimpered. With a growl, he tightened his hold, lifting me off the counter.

“Couch,” I rasped against his lips.

He shook his head. “I want to make you tea.”

Screw that. I finally had his mouth on me. I tugged his shirt, lifting it so I could slide my hands against the hard planes of his stomach.

A rough growl vibrated in his throat. “Ivry.”

I nipped his bottom lip. “Couch, please.”

He turned and stalked into the living room. Swiping the seasonal throw pillows to the floor, he laid me down. “I’m here to take care of you.”

I grinned. That was exactly what I wanted. Arching my back, I hooked my legs around him.

“You don’t want tea? A snack?” He seemed confused.

“No,” I breathed, feeling a flutter in my chest at the crazy, wonderful turn of events. “I want you.”

He groaned. Those large, strong hands skimmed down my sides. “Lie still.”

I shivered.

“Let me play, kráska.”

He knelt on the couch, and my legs slipped down his thighs. He reached between us and pressed his fingers against my center. It felt so good I nearly convulsed. Another whimper escaped me as my legs slipped wide in supplication.

“You’re wet for me,” he marveled.

I was. Since I didn’t wear underwear to sleep, the seam of my soft flannel pants was drenched.

Demyan pressed his thumb in slow, deliberate circles, teasing the friction as he studied me. My nipples ached. With a rush of bravery, I tugged my shirt over my head. The cool air made them tingle. Or maybe it was his hot gaze, drinking in the offering. He leaned down, dragging his stubble along my neck. My chest heaved. The wicked scrape was followed by lips, tongue, and the bite of his teeth at the soft skin under my jaw.

I decided that if I died here, it would be a good death.