Page 72 of If the Ring Fits

“You’ve made it clear Ican’tget a rise out of you.” I huff. “So, I don’t see what the point of this conversation is.”

“Come here,” he tells me—ordersme.

“Why?”

“Because now we’re alone.”

I don’t move, still looking at him through the mirror. “Nothing to worry about then, you won’t beforcedto kiss me anymore.”

When I don’t go to him, he comes to me. Eyes dark, predatory. He drops his hands on my shoulders and spins me around, pulling me flush to his chest—one hand on my lower, exposed back, one tangling in my hair as he cups my nape. “No, this one is just for me.” And then his mouth descends on mine.

Adrian’s lips move with a raw urgency that makes my pulse thunder, every nerve in my body alive with a desperate, dizzying need.

A dam has burst, unleashing a flood of pent-up need. His mouth claims mine with such fierce urgency that it feels like he’s drawing the very breath from my lungs, leaving me lightheaded and yearning for more.

I melt against him, my body melding to the hard planes of his chest as I lose myself in his kiss.

My head spins dizzily, unable to form a coherent thoughtbeyond how amazing his lips feel moving over mine, how delicious he tastes. My entire being narrows to this single point of connection, electric currents zinging through my veins. I clutch at his shoulders, needing an anchor in this maelstrom of sensation threatening to sweep me away.

We break apart, gasping for air, chests heaving. But it’s only a momentary reprieve. Like two magnets inexorably drawn together, our mouths find each other again, crashing in a tangle of lips and tongues and teeth. If the first kiss was an explosion, this one is an inferno, burning hot and bright, consuming everything in its path.

I pour every ounce of longing, every repressed flicker of want I’ve harbored these past weeks into the kiss, telling him without words how much I crave this,him. My fingers delve into his hair, tugging him to me in a claim of raw possessiveness I didn’t even know I was capable of. He groans deep in his throat, the sound reverberating through me and igniting my nerve endings like a lit fuse. I gobble it, wanting more of these reactions for myself.

I nip at his bottom lip, dragging my teeth over it, sucking it into my mouth. The sound Adrian gives me in response is feral. And I relish it. Delight that I was the one to elicit such a reaction.

We stumble backward, still locked in our passionate embrace, until the backs of my legs hit the bed. Adrian tears his mouth away, chest heaving, pupils blown wide. He rakes his gaze over me, a slow, scorching caress that sets my skin alight.

“You have no idea,” he rasps, voice rough with want, “how much torture it’s been, seeing you in this dress all night. I’ve been dreaming of peeling it off you.”

Acting on his words, he traces a fingertip along the thinstrap on my shoulder, a barely there touch that has me breaking into goosebumps. With deliberate slowness, he eases the strap down, baring my skin to his heated stare. He dips his head, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the curve of my shoulder.

A whimper escapes me at the contact, the brush of his lips branding me. He lavishes attention on the sensitive spot, grazing with his teeth, soothing with his tongue. His reverence is at odds with the urgency from moments ago, each touch worshipful, achingly tender. Like he wants to memorize me with hands and mouth, imprint himself on my skin.

Emboldened, I reach for the buttons on his shirt. One by one, I slip them free, revealing a tantalizing slice of tanned skin and taut muscle. Adrian shudders as I push the fabric off his shoulders, his breath stuttering out on a groan when I run my palms over his chest, delighting in the warm, satiny smooth texture.

Unable to resist, I drag my nails lightly down the ridges of his abdomen, tracing the defined contours. The muscles of his stomach contract under my touch, and his control snaps again. With a low growl, he yanks me flush against him, sealing his mouth over mine in another wild, desperate kiss.

Behind my back, Adrian throws the covers away and lays me on the bed. The weight of him pressing me into the mattress is delicious, his body radiating heat, searing it into my already burning skin. My hands map the broad expanse of his back, learning the dips and planes of him, committing them to memory.

This is happening. After days of wanting and waiting, we’re crossing that invisible line into uncharted territory. Exhilaration zings through my veins. I’ve imagined this moment countless times, but the reality blows every fantasy out of the water.Nothing could’ve prepared me for the sheer bliss of being in Adrian’s arms.

I pour everything I’m feeling into the kiss—all the longing, the desire, the bone-deep yearning I’ve harbored. Adrian matches me breath for breath, touch for touch, the same desperation thrumming through him. There’s no hesitation, no awkwardness like most first times. It’s as if our bodies already know each other, like we were made to fit together just like this.

Everywhere he touches me, pleasure skitters across my nerve endings in bright sparks. I arch into him, craving more, needing to be closer. He obliges, aligning us so there’s not an inch of space separating us. The delicious friction has me seeing stars behind my closed eyelids.

Adrian tears his mouth from mine to blaze a trail of feather-light kisses along my jaw, down the column of my throat. I tip my head back on a moan, my pulse jumping erratically beneath his lips. “Fuck, Rowena,” he rasps against my skin, voice rough with want. “I’ve dreamed of this… of you… for so long.”

“You should… have said… sooner,” I manage breathlessly, dragging him back up to recapture his eyes with mine. “Why did you pretend you didn’t want me?”

I almost don’t recognize this woman who has the boldness to ask such questions.

Adrian puts all his weight on his elbows as he stares down at me. “I never said I didn’t want you, only that this is going to turn messy. That we shouldn’t do messy.”

I caress the hair back from his face. “So what’s changed?”

“I think you know.” He drops his nose to mine, nuzzling, moving down my cheek to my neck, my ear. He drags my lobebetween his teeth. “Everything you did tonight was a test to my resolve, and I failed. I’m not a saint.”

Delicious as his butterfly kisses are, I cup his face and pull him up again. “I don’t want a saint. I only want honest.”

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