Page 16 of It's In His Hiss

I bury my face in his shirt, breathing in the scent of old books and something uniquely him.

His arms aresolid, grounding, one hand smoothing down my hair while his other rests against my back, holding me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “Whatever this is, you’re not dealing with it alone.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

Gordytilts my chin up, making me meet his gaze briefly. His green eyes areserious, unwavering. “Morethan ready.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, my emotions still a whirlwind.

“Always, Al,” Gordy says, his green eyes full of empathy before they dart away again.

“Even when I’m a big ole witchy problem?”

“Especially then,” he replies with a half-smile that makes something deep inside me flutter.

I lean into his comfort, grateful for the peace he brings amidst the chaos. I squeeze my eyes shut. “I just… need…” I trail off, unable to articulate the chaos inside me.

Instead, I reach for him, drawing him down to meet my lips.

Gordy doesn’t hesitate. The moment our mouths touch, something inside me ignites—a slow-burning fire that quickly builds into an inferno. His lips are soft but insistent, a careful blend of restraint and barely leashed desire. His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing along my cheekbones, reverent, almost hesitant, as though he’s afraid I might slip through his fingers.

But I’m not going anywhere.

“Al…” His voice is strained, and I realize this is more than comfort; it’s a need, raw and urgent.

I press closer, desperate to erase the space between us, and he groans low in his throat as I mold myself against him. His body is solid, heat radiating from him like a furnace, and the moment I slide my fingers up to his head—his snakesreact.

A shudder runs through him as the serpents shift. Some retreat beneath his cap, others cautiously flick their tongues against my fingertips. It should be strange, but it only makes the kiss more intense, morereal.

Gordy’s lips move hungrily against mine, the earlier caution melting away. His hands leave my face, skimming down my sides, gripping my waist with enough pressure to make my breath hitch. We stumble, my backhitting the wallwith a soft thud, and his body follows,caging me in.

I gasp, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping against mine in a way that leaves me dizzy. He tastes like mint and something inherentlyhim, something I already know I’ll crave. His fingers press into my hips, dragging me closer until there’s nothing between us but heatand fabric and the rapidly fraying threads of self-control.

A soft, warning hiss comes from above, but Gordy doesn’t pull away. If anything, itspurs him on, his lips trailing from my mouth to my jaw, to the sensitive spot below my ear where his breath sendsshivers racing down my spine.

“Gordy,” I gasp, my fingers fisting in his shirt as I arch toward him.

His name on my lips makes him exhale sharply. He presses his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. “Al,” he murmurs, voice thick with restraint and something darker, more dangerous. “I?—”

“Please don’t stop,” I whisper, emboldened by desire and the need to forget everything else.

But he does. His hands tighten on my waist, then abruptly release me as he steps back.

The loss of his warmth is like a bucket of ice water poured over my skin, leaving me breathless andaching for more.

His green eyes—glowing faintly in the dim light—flick to my lips, then lower, to where my nipples press against my shirt as my chest rises and falls in uneven bursts.

“I have to stop,” he says, voice rough like the words physically hurt. His jaw clenches, his hands flexing at his sides as if fighting the urge to grab me again. “Because if I don’t…”

My pulse pounds, my body still singing with need. “Did I do something wrong?” I ask, trying to hide the hurt in my voice. “Is it because I’m a witch?”

“Gods, no, Al.” He touches my cheek with a tenderness that makes my heart ache. “It’s not you. It’s me. I can’t. Not yet. I need to be sure I can control it. That I cankeep you safe.” His voice is quieter now, like it’s a battle he’s still fighting.

“Okay,” I sigh, even though it’s not. I want him, and I want him now. The heat of our embrace still lingers on my skin, and every cell in my body screams for him to continue where we left off.

But I recognize the conflict he can’t vocalize,the fear.

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