Page 69 of Demon Monster's Little Human

But I don’t.

I do the opposite.

I move closer. It’s reckless. Stupid. Insane.

But the second I press against him, the moment my skin brushes his, everything changes.

A sharp inhale, a sudden stillness.

Suddeny, fire.

His hand grips my waist, hard enough to bruise. His breath is hot against my jaw, his body scorching where it presses against mine.

All of a sudden. He's everywhere.

His scent invades my senses, dark and intoxicating. His body is too solid, too real, too consuming.

A low growl rumbles through his chest, vibrating against my own.

I should be afraid.

I should be thinking.

But there’s no space for thought, no air between us, nothing but the crushing weight of want.

His fingers slide over my ribs, trailing fire in their wake. My breath stutters, a sound escaping me that I don’t recognize, a plea, a challenge, a surrender.

His lips are on mine.

The world tilts.

I don’t know who moves first.

Maybe it’s him, dragging me against him, crushing me beneath his body.

Or maybe it’s me, pulling him down, desperate to close the space between us.

It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is that it happens. The first press of his mouth is pure destruction.

A claiming.

A battle.

It is nothing soft, nothing patient, just teeth and heat and a hunger too long denied. I gasp against him, and he takes advantage.

His tongue sweeps against mine, demanding.

My fingers dig into his back, nails scraping over muscle, over scars I don’t understand, over something ancient and untamed.

He shudders.

It’s worse.

He presses me down, caging me beneath him. The heat of his body melts into mine, his weight stealing my breath, stealing my sense.

I am drowning.

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