Page 159 of Prickly Romance

Uncontainable.

Insatiable.

I grab for his hair, my fingers tingling, my knees buckling, my body disintegrating into hot ash as he spears me with his lips and tongue.

Something rattles behind me.

The bookshelf.

A book hurtles toward my head.

I gasp and duck, but Sazuki moves fast. He slips the book back into place, pressing me deeper into the bookshelf until I can feel every part of him like an imprint on my body. His hand leaves the book and traces down my shoulder, deliciously rough, the tip of his fingers hardened by years of playing the piano.

I’m being hypnotized.

He leans down again, back to being gentle, and grazes his mouth across my lips. A low whimper escapes my throat and he growls in response, the sound rattling every bone in my mouth.

The savory kiss ends abruptly when he pulls back.

His chest brushes against mine.

I can feel the skitter of his heartbeat.

Hard against soft.

A flower trapped against a beast.

I whisper his name, begging for more. For relief. For everything that I dare not speak aloud.

“Please,” I whisper.

I would be ashamed if I wasn’t so needy for him. For his taste. For his body.

I arch against him. “I’ll be quiet.”

He looks down at me with a tortured expression.

Then he steps back.

The loss of his body against mine leaves me feeling bereft and cold. I wilt against the bookshelf, my fingers catching on the spines of old books. Why is he stopping?

I know he doesn’t want to.

I can see it.

So hard, so ready. When we were kissing, I could practically feel him charging at me through my clothes.

He curses in Japanese. I don’t know what he said. I don’t understand the language, but I understand the tension of his shoulders, the hardness of his jaw, and the glint of frustration in his brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He walks over to me again, kissing me with a hint of impatience. He traces a line of hungry-rough kisses down my jaw and throat. There is no hint of the regal Japanese emperor now. He’s shed his cloak of elegance, revealing the fairy tale beast underneath.

There’s something absolutely feral about the way he touches me. His hands slide under my T-shirt, but it’s messy this time. Like his mind isn’t fully here and he’s trying hard to escape into me. Trying hard to keep me with him.

The wild flutter of my pulse nearly sends me into cardiac arrest. I want to keep going, but the energy is off. I grip the back of his neck. Rising on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his in a sealing kiss.

He closes his eyes, his sharp nose brushing against mine.

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