Page 78 of Hemlock

"You're okay with moving in here with me?"

"A ten million square feet house with an indoor swimming pool? Gross. I think we need a place that's better," I tell him with a quick roll of my eyes.

His dimple deepens, but before he can respond, I step into him and wrap my arms all the way around him, leaning my head all the way back so I can look up at him.

"Why don't we seal all of this with a ki—"

His lips are on mine before I can get the last word out.

The sweep of his tongue along mine lights my entire body on fire. Butterflies take flight in my gut, and cold chills race their way from my mouth outward, covering every inch of my body. I've never felt anything like it in my life, and if I had any doubts, this perfect moment would've easily cleared them all away.

His soul speaks to mine much the same way mine does to his.

Chapter 39

Hemlock

The care I want to take with her tangles with my need to just take her.

The kiss is the best one I've ever had in my life, not that I've kissed many people. It's not something I did once I was old enough to understand it wasn't necessary to get what I wanted when I had a craving I couldn't shove out of my head.

My hands trace her body, wandering up her back and down her arms, and I feel the tremble in her muscles as she moves against me.

I pull back and look her in the eyes.

"You're mine?"

"I'm yours," she promises, a brilliant smile on her gorgeous face.

There will come a time when she doesn't smile, when she wants to argue or fight against the boundaries I have to keep around her in order to keep her safe, but she's so fucking pliable right now, and I won't worry about shit until I have to.

"Need you," I whisper against her lips before sliding my tongue along hers once again.

"I'm yours," she says a second time, and it lights a fire inside of me that I know will burn uncontrollably for a lifetime to come.

I don't know how long we kiss, but it doesn't seem long enough before we both have to come up for air.

There are a million words on the tip of my tongue when I pull my face back and look down at her. She's the most perfect thing that has ever walked the earth, and I'd lay down my life a thousand and one times before I let any harm come to her. The ferocity raging inside of me to protect and give her everything so I can see that pretty smile of hers daily swirls through my body like a live wire, and the sensation of it makes me restless. eager to show her how much she means to me. I do my best to stay calm, shoving down that manic urge to scream her name and make sure everyone within earshot knows she's owned.

The insanity of it isn't lost on me either. I know part of me is crazy, but I guess this is what happens when you spend a life mostly alone until you find your soulmate, and I know without a doubt that's exactly what this is. She's the missing part of me I never thought to look for and thank whatever greater being exists that put her in my path. I’m a changed man because of her.

I pull the t-shirt I gave her over her head, revealing the slinky tank top she had on when I broke into her house last night. Neither my shirt nor the tank top she was wearing matched the flannel pajama pants she's wearing, but I've never been one to concern myself with such trivial things.

Her skin, the soft, creamy expanse of it, however, coordinates with everything I own, so I don't waste another second pulling the tank over her head and shoving the flannel pants down her legs until she's standing in front of me completely naked.

I'm obsessed with the way she stands there in front of me, not showing an ounce of shyness on display. She chews her bottom lip as if she's struggling not to make a move, and I sort of love the fight between doing what she wants to do and waiting to see what I have in mind for us tonight.

"What do you want?" I ask, doing my best to consider her needs rather than plowing over her and taking what I need instead.

She narrows her eyes as if she can sense the battle swarming inside of me.

"I certainly don't want you to treat me any differently than you did before."

Surely she doesn't mean it the way it sounds. Everything is different, and I'd never be able to help keep even this aspect of us from changing at least a little.

"I care about you."

"I know you do," she says quickly. "But I'm not a piece of fragile glass.

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