Page 26 of Moonlit Thorns

Asher licks his lips like an animal ready to devour me. “Don’t make me ask again.”

My breath is shallow, and I struggle to suck in enough oxygen to keep me upright. “I like that he’s in control. That he’s telling her what to do.”

He closes his eyes, and his head rocks back as though he’s savoring my answer. I don’t know what to make of his reaction. Then he chuckles and straightens his head, his eyes once again open and on me. Embarrassment floods my body. Why must he be so cruel?

I yank my hand from his grip. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I’m laughing because you’re perfect. Of course you would be.”

Perfect for what? What is he even talking about?

But before I ask, his large hand rests on the edge of my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheek, and his fingers push into my sweaty hair that’s pulled back into a ponytail. I don’t dare move except for my chest heaving up and down to keep breathing. It’s not as though Asher Voss has never touched me before, but this is different. This is a new level.

His gaze roams my face, and that invisible string between us grows taut, dragging both of us forward. There’s no time to question what we’re doing or whether this is smart or not. A man like Asher Voss could easily chew me up and spit me out. I’d be left like roadkill on the other side of his wrought-iron gates.

Our lips touch, and he retracts, a rush of air leaving him before he places his lips on mine again, and his tongue glides along the seam of my mouth. I part my lips for him, eager for more. I could never deny this man, as messed up as that is.

He tastes like expensive whiskey, and I realize he’s drunk. Hence the reason he’s kissing me and all the strange things he’s said to me.

It dawns on me that I should probably push him away. But if this is the one time I’m going to know what it feels like to be kissed by a real man, a man like Asher Voss, then I’m going to take it for all it’s worth. The consequences will be the same at this point anyway.

I sink into the kiss. His other arm wraps around me until I’m cocooned by his large body, and his hand splays across my lower back. He dominates the kiss, setting the pace and using the hand along my cheek to direct me.

No one has ever kissed me like this. As if I were their possession, and they’d die if they didn’t have me.

When a low moan works its way up my throat, it sparks something feral in him, and our kiss turns frantic, animalistic. The hand on my back dips lower, fingers spreading over my ass. He squeezes, pulling me into him until I’m pressed against his hardness at my stomach. The memory of exactly how thick his length looked in his bathing suit causes me to grind against him.

As I willingly give myself to him, I’m thrust away from his body. I stumble back, and he looks at me in horror. When he wipes the taste of me from his mouth with the back of his hand, it feels like a swipe across my face from a set of claws.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he roars.

My head rears back. “You kissed me!”

He stalks forward then stops and takes two steps back, increasing the distance between us. “You kissed me back!” He clenches and unclenches his hands at his sides.

I guffaw. “Isn’t that what someone does when they’re kissed?”

He pushes both hands through his already disheveled hair. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it ends now. Even if I were to fuck you, it wouldn’t mean anything. It wouldn’t change the situation you’re in. You owe me a year, and a year is what I’ll get. Not even a taste of your cunt will change that.”

I gape at him, and he whips around and stalks off.

As he strides away, disappearing into the mist, I have one disturbing thought… I hate that man as much as I want him. Which is a bad position to be in.

Chapter

Twelve

ANABELLE

Ihaven’t seen Asher for five days.

Five long days.

A huge part of me doesn’t want to see him ever again. He comes onto me and then makes me feel cheap and stupid for going along with it? Asshole.

But there’s also a part of me that’s dying for a glimpse of him.

Our kiss has played on repeat in my mind since Sunday morning. I remind myself what a dick he was afterward, but my body doesn’t care.

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