Page 26 of Salvatore

I lower my head, passing my lips gently along hers until she invites my tongue to penetrate her deeply. I’m not sure how she’ll respond. I half-expect her to break away from me.

But she doesn’t, flicking her tongue over mine as I strengthen our kiss and my arm hooks her waist.

The kiss is slow, not as fast as I want, or as hard as I’m used to. But then something switches, turning us more aggressive. Her nails trace over my chest to dig into my shoulders, tightening our embrace and inviting me to curl around her.

I don’t want to pull away. I don’t want to stop. What I want is to peel away her dress and spread her legs wide.

The only thing that stops me is knowing she’s not sober, despite how she’s acting. Ecstasy can do a real number on your head. I won’t take her now, not like this.

I break the kiss, even though I’m as hard as a metal railing. “I have to go.”

Surprise sweeps along her delicate features, but when she bites down on her bottom lip, I come close to tossing my sense of right and wrong aside and carrying her to bed.

“Are you sure?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

No. I’m not. But that’s not what I tell her. “I have to get back to Donnie.”

Donnie’s is the last place I want to be, especially with Vin there. I don’t need their dysfunctional shit messing with my head. I’d rather be here, with Aedry.

I almost tell her that, but I shut my trap and force myself to my feet.

Images of taking her behind that sheer white curtain pound against my skull like a wild storm as I walk toward the door. She follows me, tugging down her skirt as she reaches my side. Christ, does she know what she’s doing to me and how bad I want to rip that thing off her?

As small as her place is, it seems to take forever to reach the door. I won’t lie, I change my mind about leaving more than once.

I grasp the knob, but then let it go, speaking before I think things through. “Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“Dinner?” She smiles. “I’d love to.”

I frown when her grin fades, and she seems to want to say more. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

She watches my hand when it drifts to play with her dark hair. “I just wanted to thank you, for being such a gentleman.”

My hand stills. “I’m no gentleman,” I growl, pegging her with look that halts her in place. “Have dinner with me and you’ll find out what kind of man I really am.”

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