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But then he'd get his wildcat. And much as he loved that version of her, at the moment, he wanted his purring cat.
So instead, he brought his teeth over her lips, nibbling softly at her. Small bites that lacked any aggression, but were full of playful curiosity.
She parted her lips to draw in a deep breath.
A first victory.
Michele continued to pepper small bites around her mouth, all the while keeping his hand wrapped tightly in her hair, his eyes affixed to hers.
She had no choice but to look back at him, revealing everything with one gaze.
She was so expressive, he could imagine himself painting her like that.
All maidenly shyness and a hint of desire. Because therewasdesire. He noted that as soon as her pupils started expanding, the brown of her irises becoming eclipsed by darkness.
She may have held herself still, but she was halfway there already—almost an active participant.
"I know you still want me, pet," he murmured between sweet bites.
She stiffened in his arms, blinking repeatedly.
"Don't," he told her sternly when he felt the first stirrings of her rebellion. "Don't move."
She regarded him warily, and he could see so many emotions battling on her face—so many conflicting feelings.
Yes, shedidlove him still. But it would take a little coaxing to get that to the surface.
Taking a step forward, he pressed her against the counter so there would be no space for her to move or draw back.
With a small yank of her ponytail, he gave her a smile before he finally pressed his lips fully to hers. He gave her a lick, seeking entrance to her mouth.
She didn't grant it—initially.
But as he alternated between small nibbles and licks, he finally got a reaction out of her as she opened her mouth.
That was enough for him to plunge, take everything she'd unwittingly offered him.
Still holding on to her hair, he brought his other arm around her slight waist, inviting her deeper in his embrace.
To his surprise, she didn't protest.
For a moment, she let herself go, giving herself to him as she'd done in the past—with wild abandon.
He opened his mouth deeper on top of hers, his tongue swiping over her own as he tasted her deeply. And at his urging, she opened deeper.
He gave and she took.
She gave and he took in return.
For that brief moment, there was an unprecedented equality to their interaction—to the way they both met halfway.
But Michele, unused to such tenderness—unused to such prolonged titillation—found himself growing impatient. As much as he'd previously told himself he would take his time with her, weeks of abstinence—ofhermarked absence—made him too excited at the prospect of owning her again.
He moved his hand down her thigh, gripping some of the material and pulling it upwards as he sought access to her naked flesh.
The spell was broken.
Her teeth came down on his lip as she bit with all the strength she could muster, drawing blood.
