Page 25 of Moth to a Flame

So I can hold her.

Fuck, I love holding her.

“Missed me?” When I trace my lips along her jaw, she shivers.

“No.”

“Such a beautiful liar.” I brush my thumb on her pulse point while my other hand goes to her waist, yanking her to me.

“I already told you.” Her hands flatten on my chest, not pushing me away. Drawing me to her. “I’m not a liar.”

“Fine.” My lips are an inch from hers, her hot breath fucking with my head. She smells like mint, and I’d bet my entire net worth she tastes sweet. So sweet. “Then you’ll probablyhatethis part.”

I pull her to me at the same moment my mouth crashes to hers. She gives me the sweetest hum. The hottest whimper.

I knew she would.

With her lips closed.

As soft as they are, as delicious and addictive, it’s not nearly enough.

I’m not here for my first kiss in over a decade, with the girl I jerked off to more times than I can count, for a closed-mouthed kiss.

“Regan.” My thumb finds her chin, yanking it lower until, ah, there, she opens up for me.

Her breath hitches, and I bite her bottom lip. I run my tongue along the seam of her mouth, tugging her closer. Pressing my cock to her stomach.

Without a reaction from her.

“You…” I groan, opening my eyes.

“Don’t hate it.” Her eyelashes flutter. Pupils dilated. Cheeks pink.

Her fingernails dig into my T-shirt.

No, she doesn’t hate it. She isn’t scared of me either, even though she should.

Something else is holding her back.

“Little lamb.” From her waist, my hand slides higher. “Is this your first kiss?”

My thumb brushes the underside of her breast, running along the wire of her bra. She digs her fingers deeper in response, saying nothing. Begging me through her body. Her eyes.

For what?

“Tell me.” I can’t believe that she’s so beautiful, so tempting, and no one’s ever kissed her before. That for twenty-five years, no one’s tried to taste a woman like her.

It’s insane to crave it the way I do. Irrational. I shouldn’t.

“Am I the first one?”

Marshall didn’t care about her stories. I do. God, how I do.

She swallows. The woman who stormed out of her store after me, who demanded answers, is timid all of a sudden.

“Tell me.” I emphasize how serious I am by rocking my hips into her. “Am. I. Your. First. Kiss?”

Her eyes grow impossibly wider, her swollen lips parting. “Yes.”

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