Page 27 of Kai
"Don't promise me things you can't keep," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotion.
"I don't make promises lightly," he responded, his tone resolute. "And when I do, I make damn sure to keep them."
"I can't do this." She tried shoving at him again, but he held on tight. "I need to think."
"Think about this." Before she could evade him, he brought her face around and covered her mouth with his. Her struggling ceased as she melted against him, the kiss spinning her out and making her hungry for more. He had always been able to do this to her. And she accepted that with bitter defeat. She wanted him, wanting him was like a fever inside her that refused to be cooled. She just did not know what to do with that knowledge and could not think, not while he was kissing her.
When he placed his palm over her intimately, she felt the desire trembling through her body again. It was incredible, this passion between them.
"More," he whispered hoarsely. Lifting her, he placed her squarely on top of him, chuckling when her eyes widened. The laughter turned to a groan when her tightness encompassed him and took him in completely.
Chapter 9
He followed her home. She had no idea how she made it out of the store and had the presence of mind to key in the code, but she did. After four in the morning. Her entire body was still trembling in the aftermath of what she considered to be the most stunning sex marathon. He hadn't left her alone, given her any peace. Her mind was shattered, her emotions all over the place. She was wonderfully sore—her nipples were aching and still wet from his mouth.
Three times. That has got to be a record. She had had so many climaxes; she had simply lost count. Her hair was a mess—a glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that it was in tangles. And her lips were swollen. It was a good thing there was no one around. Her clothes were in tatters, her bra hopelessly ruined and her panties—well, she had just stuffed them into her tote because they were no longer wearable.
There were marks all over her body and she knew she had left marks on him as well.
He pulled in behind her and got out when she exited the vehicle.
"I want to come in." It wasn't a request and they both knew it.
"No. Just go away."
His brows lifted. "You really think that's going to happen?"
"Kai—"
"Let me rephrase that. I'm coming in." His expression was still mild, but the determination in his voice was unmistakable.
She stared at him, her pulse erratic, her thoughts a tangled mess. "You don't get to just decide—"
"You know I do," he interrupted, his tone low but unyielding. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, his energy wrapping around her like a storm she couldn't escape. "Tell me to stop, and mean it, and I will. But if you're lying to yourself, to us..." Hisvoice dropped further, a husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "Then I'm walking through that door."
Her breath caught, her lips parting as she wrestled with the war raging inside her. She wanted to push him away and drag him closer at the same time. "You don't fight fair," she finally said, her voice trembling with both anger and something she refused to name.
A faint smile touched his lips, devoid of humor but filled with something far more dangerous: certainty. "I never said I did." He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek in a touch so tender it made her knees weak. "But I fight for what's mine."
And then, without waiting for her permission, he moved past her, his steps measured yet deliberate, as if he was claiming not just the space but something far more intimate. Her heart thundered in her chest as she turned to follow, the door clicking shut behind them like the seal of a fate she couldn't undo.
"I hate you," she muttered, though the heat in her voice betrayed the truth.
He turned, his eyes locking onto hers with a fire that threatened to consume her. "No, you don't," he said simply, his confidence as maddening as it was intoxicating. "You hate how much you can't hate me."
And just like that, the fragile barrier of her resolve began to crumble all over again.
Upstairs, he insisted on them having a bath and drew it himself. She was so exhausted, she just wanted to curl under the sheets and sleep for hours. But he was right. The soothing scent of the chamomile and vanilla bath gel worked out the kinks and eased the soreness of her nipples.
And he was gentle with her, using the sponge over her body to soothe and massage. Within minutes, the tension evaporated, and she was leaning back against his chest, her eyes closed.
"I hurt you." His touch lingered over the bruise just above her left breast where he had sunk his teeth in—his control slipping away.
"Hmm." She murmured. She recalled a time ten years ago when they had shared a bath. It had been their first time together and he had been a little rough with her and angry with himself for losing control.
He had tended to her then, washing down there gently. The bath had turned into a lovemaking fest that had water splashing over the lip.
"Don't fall asleep on me." She had pinned her hair loosely on top of her head, giving him access to the back of her neck and he was finding it hard to resist. Nipping at the flesh, he wrapped his arms around her waist, venturing to cup her breasts.
