Page 23 of Deadly Oath

I want to try this new, formerly forbidden experience.

Swallowing again, I shake my head quickly. “No,” I whisper. “No, you don’t need to.”

His arm tightens around my waist. “My place or yours?”

The question jolts me. It’s one I’ve never heard before, another in a long line of new, unfamiliar choices. I know it’s probably not the wisest choice to let this man I barely know into my home—but then again, he’s already been there twice. Something tells me that if he wanted in, there wouldn’t be much I could do about it. That should scare me, but?—

I’ve spent my whole life around demanding men. Men who don’t know the meaning of the wordno, who take what they want, who don’t ask for permission. They’re nothing new to me, and I always expected to be given to one.

Whatisnew is this feeling of having some measure of power. Of being asked my opinion. And deep down, even if it’s probably not the best choice, I want the relative familiarity of my place as I try this new, unfamiliar thing.

“Mine,” I whisper, and Kian’s gaze darkens hotly.

“Let’s go.” He urges me towards the door, his hand splaying possessively over my hip as we walk out into the chilly night. “I regret not driving here,” he growls, looking impatiently up the street as if the short walk back to his truck is already too far.

My heart stutters in my chest. This level of wanting is unfamiliar to me. Even if any of the men who vied for my father’s approval ever desired me this much, they would never have admitted it. Never let me see. Kian’s need feels raw, demanding, and my pulse is racing at the thought of what that might mean.

I’m in uncharted waters now, and I’ve got to quickly figure out just how deep I want to go.

Kian isn’t going to give me much time to make up my mind, that’s for certain. The minute we reach his truck, instead of opening the door for me, he backs me up against the side of it and crushes his mouth to mine.

The kiss is hot, forceful, his lips pressed against mine like he’s trying to steal the breath from my mouth. His tongue licks over my lower lip, his hand still gripping my hip, his other hand braced against the side of the truck as his hips meet mine, his throbbing erection pressed against my thigh.

Even through two layers of denim, I can feel him, hard and eager—andhuge. I feel that flicker of uncertainty again, as Kian groans against my mouth.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs, pulling away from me with some difficulty. “Before I fuck you right here in my truck.”

I let out a small, shocked whimper as he tugs me away from the door, opening it so that I can slide in. I don’t even know if I’mgoingto fuck him yet—there are steps before that, right?—but the way he says it sends heat blooming through me, weakening my knees and my resolve to not gotoofar, too fast.

Kian doesn’t drive anywhere close to the speed limit as we head back to my house. He casts one heated glance over at me when I mention it, that smirk on his mouth again as he veers onto the road that heads to my house.

“Who’s going to give me a ticket?” he challenges. “One of the cops that worksforme?”

“You have a point,” I manage, as he pulls into my driveway and kills the engine. I don’t get another word out before he’s out of the truck, coming around to open my door, his hands on my waist to pull me out. My feet are barely on solid ground before his mouth is on mine again, his hands pushing up the edge of my sweater.

The way he kisses me takes my breath away. I’ve heard that said before and read it in books, but I never actually understood what it might mean until this moment. My heart pounds in my chest as Kiancrowds me against the truck again, his tongue pushing into my mouth the moment my lips part to try to catch a breath. His hands are sliding under my sweater, up towards my bra, and it takes a monumental amount of effort for me to reach up and push at his chest, trying to get a moment to breathe.

“Inside,” I manage, the moment he breaks the kiss. “I have neighbors, Kian.”

“I don’t care,” he growls, but he steps away from me all the same, his hand on my back as he urges me towards the stairs. He steers me inside with a single-minded purpose, barely giving me a moment to lock the door before he kisses me again, his mouth devouring mine.

Inside, without the worry of prying eyes or judgmental neighbors, the heat that he summons every time he touches threatens to consume me. I feel like I’m on fire, every touch lighting me up as his mouth drags over mine, as his hands work their way under my sweater again and up to the edge of my bra.

“I want this gone,” he growls, his fingers sliding around to my back, his lips dragging along my jaw as he undoes my bra strap with a quick flick of his fingers.

How many times has he done that?The thought sends another of those sharp jolts of jealousy through me, one that I have no business feeling. I don’t know what this is—if it means anything, if Iwantit to mean anything. But suddenly, as he shoves the cups of my bra up and I feel the rough brush of a man’s palms against my naked breasts for the first time, I want this to be something forhim.

I want to be more than just another conquest. And from the way he’s devouring me, even in my inexperience, I think it is more than that to him. I can’t imagine someone being thishungryall the time.

The way he touches me is overwhelming. I want him to slow down, and at the same time, I don’t want it to stop. Every sensation is new, and they’re flooding me all at once in a riot of pleasure that I barely have time to catalog before some new feeling hits me. His palms rub over my stiffening nipples as he cups my small breasts in his hands, the warmth of his skin against mine, the way his lips on my throat make every small hair on my body stand up, prickling heatflooding over my skin. He pushes me back against the door, grinding his hips against mine as the hard ridge of his erection digs into my thigh, and I canfeelhis urgency. His need.

His thumbs roll over my nipples, his lips sucking at the hollow of my throat as he drags his mouth across my collarbone, and I let out a needy gasp that doesn’t even sound like me to my own ears. I’ve never felt any of this before. I didn’t even let myself imagine that I ever would.

“Fuck,” Kian rasps, his hands dropping to the top of my hips as he curls his fingers around them, lifting me up effortlessly. My legs go around his waist instinctively, and his lips crush against mine again, his tongue licking into my mouth as he pivots and carries me toward the living room. “God, I want to fucking taste you everywhere.”

My mind spins with the possibilities as he carries me, one hand wrapped around the nape of my neck, sinking into my hair as he kisses me again. I half think he’s going to run into something—he doesn’t know my house well, and he’s barely looking where he’s going. But he stops abruptly at the edge of the couch, giving me one more hard, searing kiss before he spills me back onto it and follows me down.

“Kian—” I gasp his name as he pushes my sweater up, his every movement sharp and urgent. “Kian?—”

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