Page 47 of Defending What's Mine

I tilt my head, giving him a sliver of space, and run my fingertips lightly across his forearm. “I used that new lavender-sandalwood lotion you like.” I laugh, heart fluttering. “So… aren’t you supposed to be teaching me self-defense moves?”

His arms circle my waist, hands resting low at my hips, thumbs brushing the curve of my butt. He growl-laughs softly. “I can’t help it.”

His confession hits me like a spark. My body ignites, needy and alive. I lean back into him, closing the circle between us. “I can’t help it either.”

His fingers slip beneath the hem of my dress, grazing the creamy skin of my lower back. I gasp, a hot, sharp sound. He smiles against my neck, then draws back to see the effect he’s having on me.

“Ready for your first lesson?” he asks, voice husky.

I turn in his arms, hands coming up to rest on his chest. “Only if it involves you.”

Asher’s gaze darkens, molten with desire. “Say the word.”

I trace one finger along his sternum, memorizing the path. “Teach me.” My breath catches on the words.

He steps back, raising his hands in a mock-kata stance. “First lesson: always be aware of your surroundings.” He moves close again, pressing into me. “But right now, your surroundings include me.”

He sweeps an arm behind me, tracing a line across my ribs, eliciting a soft moan. “Second lesson: use your leverage. Your strong points.” His free hand finds the curve of my hip, gripping firmly to guide me. “Can you feel where your strength lies?”

I shiver, leaning back into his palm. “Yes,” I whisper, “right here—where you hold me.”

He smiles, amusement and lust mingling in his eyes. “Excellent. Third lesson: if you must… strike.”

His other hand lifts to my shoulder, palm pressing flat. He bows his head close, wiping his lips across the sensitive spot where my collarbone meets neck. The sensation is deliciously distracting.

“Strike me,” I challenge softly, “and see how hard you can hit.”

Asher pauses, eyes smoldering. He grips my shoulder lightly, then tilts forward, pressing a searing kiss along the plane of my neck. My world narrows to the taste of him, the press of his lips. When he finally pulls away, he grins.

“That wasn’t a strike,” he murmurs, voice thick.

“No,” I counter, stepping forward so our bodies come flush. “But I want to learn.”

He sweeps my hair aside and lowers his mouth to mine—long, slow, tender at first, then deepening with hungry confidence. His tongue slides along mine, teasing, exploring, sending white-hot sparks through my veins. My hands clutch his button-down, savoring the firmness beneath my palms.

I return his kiss with equal fervor, meeting him mouth to mouth, matching his rhythm. The night air flushes my senses as he guides me backward until my back skims the edge of the balcony railing. The lights below flicker like stars scattered on water, but all I see is Asher, framed in moonlight.

He pulls back for air, forehead resting against mine. “One more lesson,” he breathes.

I shake with anticipation. “Yes.”

He sweeps an arm behind me and, in one fluid motion, lifts me onto the railing so I’m perched tall, legs wrapped around his waist for balance. My heart hammers—both from rush of wind, of illicit thrill, and fear of falling. He steadies me, hands strong at my hips.

“Never be afraid to put yourself in a position of power,” he says, voice low and intimate. “Balance. Strength. Focus.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close until our bodies are one. “And…fear?” I whisper.

His hands tighten, grounding me. “Fear is a tool, if you manage it. It tells you what matters.”

My pulse roars at his nearness. “You matter,” I whisper.

He crushes me to him, capturing my mouth in a heated, relentless kiss. Every nerve ignites. A fleeting thought enters mymind:What if we fall?but it dissipates in the warmth of his arms.

He finally tilts me down until my feet touch the floor, then steps back. My dress falls around my ankles, and he steps forward, brushing his thumb across my lips to catch the taste of me.

“That’s how you turn fear into adrenaline,” he says, lowering his gaze to my skin. “Into desire.”

I swallow, voice husky. “I’m ready… for the next lesson.”

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