Page 206 of Anathema

“Body heat. Best way to stay warm.”

Pride urged me to fight his embrace, but it felt too good. Far too intimate, yet still, I didn’t protest. Eyes glued to the wall, I took in the feel of his arm banded around my stomach, his broad chest at my back like a shield. How small and safe I felt beside him, like nothing and no one could possibly touch me.

While I no longer felt cold, my body continued to shiver. Much as I tried to calm myself, I couldn’t help but imagine his hands slipping up the hem of the shirt, the thought of which had me trembling harder.

“You’re worried I’m going to touch you.” The lazy baritone of his voice, when he said it, sent another ripple down my spine, and I shuttered my eyes, imagining darkly wicked words spoken in that timbre. “I promise to be a gentleman, in spite of the fact that you unintentionally have no undergarments on.”

“Do you find it difficult, lying beside a woman this way?”

“As a general rule? No. But when that woman is you? Yes.”

Like the strike of a match, his words set me aflame. The knot in my belly wound tighter, and I crossed my legs over one another, the ache to be touched, the curiosity of what his fingertips would feel like against my flesh, unbearable. I needed something. Distraction. Anger. Anything to keep me from imagining his fingers languorously exploring my body in the dark.

I exhaled a shaky breath. “Surely you’ve enjoyed the pleasures of other women,” I said, squeezing my legs tighter when a visual of him in the throes of sex came to mind. How utterly delicious he must’ve looked, with his muscles coated in sweat and those fiery eyes fixated.

“I have,” he answered, the frustration of his aloof response cooling the fire inside of me.

“How many?” The more he irritated me with his answers, the faster this longing would fizzle away.

“Not enough to drown the urges I’m feeling now.”

A greedy desire pulsed through me, and I gripped the pillow to keep from doing something foolish, like reaching back to feel just how big that bulge was. “Perhaps you should take care of that then.”

He let out a dark chuckle, and god, the sound of it failed to abate whatever clawed inside of me right then. “Are you suggesting that I relieve myself here, beside you?”

“Of course not,” I answered quickly, though the visual of that nearly broke me. “I’m merely suggesting that if you’re uncomfortable lying next to me, perhaps you should do whatever it is men do for that.”

“You’ve never seen it done before.” The air of amusement in his voice gnawed at me.

“Do you enjoy making me uncomfortable?”

“If I’m being honest, yes. Blush looks good on you.”

Gnashing my teeth, the unbearable tension, coupled with embarrassment, had my cheeks burning, and I pushed at his steely arm still banded around me. “Fine. I’ll sleep by the hearth. At least it won’t find amusement at my naiveté, or whatever it is you think is so entertaining.”

As I pushed myself up to crawl out of bed, he tightened his hold and threw me back down against the mattress on a blast of air from my lungs. The gesture triggered my defenses, and I squirmed to get loose, scratching at his arm that held me imprisoned.

“Let me go!” I snarled, but he wrapped his muscled leg over mine, trapping me beneath him.The way he so effortlessly held me down, as if I were nothing but a weak child, only fueled my irritation. Temper ignited, I kicked upward, accidentally hitting him in what I estimated to be his groin, and he let out a quiet growl. Whatever small bit of remorse I felt for that was quickly smothered when he pressed into my body, caging me in his brawny arms.

Squirming for freedom, my legs rubbed against his, and the shirt inched its way up my thighs. “Release me now!”

The struggle ensued, and I ground my teeth, arching my back to break his grip, but it was futile and I’d grown tired.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in my ear, wrangling me closer, and buried his face in my hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I stilled at the hypnotically calm tone of his voice, the breath sawing in and out of me as I abandoned my fight.

His chest rose and fell with his heaving breaths, and he let out a wry chuckle. “Fucking hell, you are a vicious little rosebud. One minute, you’re soft and inviting, the next, you’re thorns and blood.”

“What blood?”

He lifted his arm where I’d scratched him, tiny red rivulets trickling down his skin over the scorpion and flames. Once again, I felt a small bit of remorse.

“Had you not taunted me with your …” I clamped the spicy words on my tongue that begged to be cut loose. “I’m not as naive as you think. I’m well aware you’ve got all this … experience with women. And that you think I’m just this stupid little mortal who–”

His lips seized mine, silencing me.

Stunned, I lay paralyzed in his grip, the argument dying in my throat. While my stubborn temper begged me to push him off, screamed at me to smack his annoyingly handsome face for daring to quiet me that way, the battle in my head was quickly lost in one bitter swallow. My bones melted, softening, as he pushed up onto his elbow and threaded his fingers through my hair. Slow and lazy, he ran his tongue over my lips, licking, tasting, exploring.

---