Page 33 of Run, Little Bunny

“So come inside,” I pant, his big hand covering my throat, applying the slightest pressure. Staring up at him, feeling so small beneath his height and presence, I’m weak. He has to be able to feel my pulse and how fast my heart is beating.

“Not tonight, little bunny.”

“Why not?” My voice comes out more breathless than I want, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. His thumb brushes gently along the side of my neck. No one has ever done that to me before.

“Because you’re special.”

I huff, louder than I mean to, crossing my arms as I feel my body practically shaking with need. Why do I have to be special? Why can’t he want to fuck me without thinking about what happens next? I want him so bad, and his hand around my neck is not helping me calm down.

“You’re trying to wife me up,” he grumbles. “What kind of girl would I be if we slept together right now?”

I giggle despite the frustration simmering inside me, uncrossing my arms. He squeezes my neck a little, pressing me back against the door more, getting closer to me, and my pulse skyrockets.

“I think,” I say, barely getting the words out because I am so fucking turned on, “you’d be the kind of girl who has her cake and eats it too.”

His lips crash into mine, his hand still firmly wrapped around my neck. It’s the kind of kiss that makes me think he’s changing his mind. The kind of kiss that says more is going tohappen. This kiss has me breathless and wanting to pull him back in when he breaks away.

“I hate you,” I breathe, though my body is arching into him.

His fingers stroke my neck, turning me on more as we stare at each other.

“You’re mean,” I pant as he releases my neck.

“I want you … I really fucking want you. Trust me.” He brushes a stray lock of hair from my face. “Let me be a gentleman tonight … so I can not be one the next time I see you.”

My heart practically leaps out of my chest, and somehow, I manage, “Okay.”

“When’s your next free night?” he asks, interlacing our hands.

“Thursday,” I breathe, my mind already fast-forwarding. Two days … too many days. Why do I have to wait two more days?!

“Thursday. I’ll make dinner.”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to play it cool even though I’m sweating, wet, and considering mauling him. “Where do you live?”

“I’m picking you up. Then, you’ll see.”

“So, you want me trapped at your house?”

He leans in closer, his lips grazing my ear as he whispers, “You’re dropping a lot of hints that you want me to kidnap you.”

I laugh. “No, I’m just being funny.”

“Sure,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. “Thursday. I’ll grab you at six.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Grab?”

“There will be lots of grabbing.” His eyes darken with a promise.

I hold his gaze, unable to stop myself from smiling. “What else?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“Please do.”

I smirk, my mind already racing ahead to Thursday, imagining what could happen, what I want to happen.

---